


"Witcher, did you come here to court me?"

by goldenprimeval (mismatchedsockdrawer)



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Bad Parenting, Courtship, Desperation, Eloping, Escape, Hand Jobs, Love at First Sight, M/M, Masturbation, Monsters, Omorashi, Scent Kink, Secret Relationship, Slight Misogyny, Watersports, Wyverns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 07:14:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28467387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mismatchedsockdrawer/pseuds/goldenprimeval
Summary: Geralt was just supposed to kill the Wyverns on Perilous Peak; he wasn't supposed to fall in love with the prince. Geralt certainly wasn't supposed to help Ciri and Jaskier escape the clutches of royal life, and leave their castle and kingdom far behind. But Geralt did all of those things, and shook the small kingdom of Eiderune to its very core in less than one month.My original summary was: Jaskier is a soft lil priceling coming up on the age of marriage and boy does he have suitors, but the gruff old witcher is the one who catches his eye. Also known as the little prince can't pee and the witcher helps him.My second summary was:Jaskier is a prince who wishes to become a bardCiri is a princess who's hell bent on becoming a witcherGeralt is a witcher who accidentally made the prince fall in love with him
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Kudos: 27





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, I really don't know how to tag things. I literally don't know how to tag fic, so please suggest anything that needs to be added. 
> 
> I also want to preface this work saying that Ignis is a shitty parent, but this is the first part in a series and I have big plans for growth for him. Mostly I wrote this to be a fic with tons of kink, but I made too much plot in between smut. These are the first 4 chapters in the series. 
> 
> I may be editing this lightly if I notice mistakes on later rereads, feel free to point out any mistakes though :P

A true festival at Eiderune always required endless upon endless hours of drinking. The actual feast was served throughout the later evening, more as an aside to the onflux of mead, wines, ales, and stouts that went through each of their own courses. 

Tonight's feast was celebrating the official beginning of the young, soon to be Prince Regent's, courtship. Since midday Jaskier could swear he had met a hundred suitors, men and women alike. He liked the attention well enough, but the night had begun to drag onward endlessly. Beneath the table Jaskier's legs were wound tightly, bound by tradition to stay at his own feast until it ended, though his body wished to be elsewhere. Another cluster of women settled down next to him, and Jaskier begrudgingly took another drink of mead. 

Nearly an hour passed before Jaskier's intended discreet squirming became enough of a distraction to his younger sister. Ciri nudged him hard. "Just go already." She hissed under her breath. 

"I can't just leave, this is my feast."

Ciri rolled her eyes. "Suit yourself. But even father has retired for the night, surely you can grant yourself some leniency?"

Jaskier glanced around him. It was deeper into the night than Jaskier had quite realized. "Okay fine, I'll be back in ten minutes."

Ciri scoffed. "Ten minutes? I really doubt that. But I'll save some spiced wine for you." She teased. "Run along brother."

Jaskier tried not to roll his eyes. Four years were between them but sometimes Jaskier felt she was the elder one. She was wiser and more sensible than he was anyway. Jaskier rather hoped she would inherit the throne instead of him. 

Carefully Jaskier extracted himself from his seat--his arse had gone numb hours ago--and when he found he could stand upright properly, he made his way out of the grand hall, deflecting conversation and ducking away before any guards could notice his absence.

Outside in the night air, it was a bit easier to breathe. He was headed towards the soldiers barracks--it would be quieter there and Jaskier could earn some privacy. He crossed the courtyard and went down past the stables, nearly colliding with the huge figure of a man who had seemingly let himself into the castle. 

"Apologies." The man said, catching Jaskier by the arm as he nearly fell. The man’s grip upon him was at the same time both gentle and strong--as much steadying Jaskier as well as swooping him off his feet. 

Jaskier blinked up at the man--his platinum white blonde hair implied he was a witcher. "It's alright. The feast is over that way, if you wish to join the festivities. I must be going." He gulped and gestured back the way he had come. The witcher turned towards the inner castle, and so Jaskier put his mind back to the task at hand, leaving all thought of the witcher behind. 

The barracks were empty and Jaskier slipped inside to utilize the privy at the end of the room. Relief was incredible, and when he was finished Jaskier made his way back out of the barracks. Half of him wanted to just retire--he was a little drunk truth be told, and the endless suitors were wearing Jaskier thin--but the presence of a witcher implied he ought to be courteous and at least properly meet the man. 

Ciri flashed him a smirk as he returned to the grand hall. Jaskier glanced around to see if he could spot the witcher, before taking his seat at the end of the table once again. "Better?" Ciri surmised, her eyes a little glossy from the wine. 

"Think so. I'm pretty sure I just ran into a witcher outside."

Ciri's eyebrows raised. "Did you?"

"Yeah, but I wasn't quite composed enough to introduce myself. Just tell me if you see him."

"How can I, I don't know what he looks like."

"He's a witcher Ciri. I mean his hair is the same color as yours. Look for that."

She scoffed, pouring herself another glass of wine. Jaskier wondered if he ought to cut her off of the drink already, but his eye was caught by a familiar figure pressing quietly into the room and Jaskier excused himself from the table to actually greet the man. 

"You look lost." Jaskier said as he moved in front of the witcher. "Come sit at my table, be refreshed."

The witcher grunted, following Jaskier wordlessly. Jaskier offered the witcher his own seat, then sat in his father's chair. A servant came by with a goblet for the witcher. Ciri took a final drink of her wine, catching herself on Jaskier as she stood up. "Brother I retire. Enjoy business." Jaskier frowned as he watched her leave, swaying a bit as she walked.

Finally Jaskier turned his attention to the witcher. "I ought to apologize. I was indisposed when we first met. I am Prince Jaskier. My father has retired for the night, but I expect he will wish to speak to you promptly tomorrow. Am I correct to presume you are here on business?"

The witcher nodded. "I'm Geralt of Rivia. I was actually sent for. There are many beasts beyond these walls. Someone figured it was time for a little clean up."

"Allow me to extend my hospitality. I could show you to a room whenever you'd like. But first you ought to eat, refresh yourself." Jaskier waved a servant over for a plate of food. He watched the witcher eat while he sipped on spiced wine. Geralt was quiet, and uninclined to talk further until his meal was finished. 

"What festivities are these?" Geralt finally asked. 

"Mine. As of today I am open to suitors of all kinds."

Geralt exhaled. "Sounds rough. I'm sure there are many who would jump at a chance to be royalty."

Jaskier was surprised at how candidly the witcher spoke. "Believe me, I've been fielding off a group of particularly relentless widowers. I'm not saying I'm not open to anyone, but I can't just fall in love with that kind of desperation."

"How much time before you must choose someone?"

Jaskier shrugged. "My next birthday, four moons from now."

Geralt sighed. "Maybe it's just me, but I can't imagine my life being dictated like that, mapped out for me in advance with no accounting for my own free will."

Jaskier couldn't disagree. He sipped at his wine again. "I don't like it. My sister ought to be queen instead of me, but my birthright damns her instead. She doesn't get to choose her suitor--she's been betrothed for years to another prince. And we both know it's just a political marriage. She hopes I can actually find love during this time, maybe live a little happier than she will."

Geralt hummed. "What would you do, if you became king?"

Jaskier exhaled, leaning back in his father's seat. "I don't know. I sit through court meetings and briefings, and so much of it goes over my head. I don't know the first thing about this kingdom, or its peoples and their specific needs. I want to do better by them, but too much constrains me. Honestly I want no part in any of it. Is being a witcher better somehow?"

Geralt actually laughed, just a little chuckle, but the smile stayed on his lips. "No. It's one of the worst lives to lead, and that's hoping you survive the training and trials. It has perks, but I'm also ostracized from society, shunned and spat at. But I'm a necessary inclusion in the world because of the creatures that permeate it, and thus I can sit among kings in return for some gold. Some of my kind argue it's worth it."

"And you? What do you think?"

Geralt sighed, staring into his empty goblet. "I think if we gave a shit about anyone besides ourselves, the world could be a better place. But too few will ever understand empathy."

"I thought witchers don't have emotion."

"That's a hard line to draw. I have people I care strongly about, some I might die for. I've loved and been loved, and I've also hurt more than any man should have. It’s easier to say we wear a mask of uncaring, unfeeling, but beneath we're just men, just as lost as anyone else is, looking for something to make us feel worthwhile."

"Have you found that?" Jaskier queried.

"Have you?" Geralt leveled back.

Jaskier set back, frowning. "Have any of us?"

"Thats the real question." Geralt exhaled, leaning back and patting his belly contentedly. "As riveting as this conversation is however, I've ridden long hours and need rest."

"Did you get your horse stabled?" Jaskier suddenly remembered that was where they had met, just beyond the stable door.

Geralt nodded, looking somewhat bemused. "Roach is all cared for tonight. I appreciate your generosity. Most places I just make do on a cot somewhere."

"Nonsense. At least a decent room for a witcher."

It wasn't the biggest room, just a bed and a dresser, with a basin for shaving atop the bedside table. Geralt set his satchel down on the bed and turned back to smile at Jaskier. "This will be lovely, thank you Jaskier."

Jaskier couldn't help the little shiver that ran through him at hearing Geralt say his name. He tried to clear his head. "Did you need anything else?"

"No, just, what time is morning meal? I wouldn't want to be late."

Jaskier smiled. "Cooks usually begin serving around seven, but the smell starts much earlier."

Geralt smiled. "Good. I'll see you later. Goodnight."

"Goodnight." Jaskier gently pressed the door closed. His heart was racing and he took a moment to calm himself. It was probably the wine anyway. Upstairs in his own room Jaskier flopped onto his own bed and let the sway of the alcohol draw him into sleep.

~~~~  
Jaskier was not hungover; at least not as bad as Ciri was. She seemed uninclined to eat any of the food before her, grimacing as she watched Jaskier fill his belly. For the moment it was quiet in the dining chamber upstairs. It was just the two of them, and life outside moved like clockwork.

The door thudded open suddenly and King Ignis clapped Jaskier on the shoulder as he came around to his seat at the table. "I've just finished speaking with the witcher.” His voice was bright and booming. “Your hospitality towards him makes me pleased son. Already he has taken on a handful of contracts. Maybe the wyvern on Perilous Peak will finally be rid of once and for all."

Ciri was glaring daggers at her father, rubbing her head. "You're much too loud for such an early hour." She groused.

"And perhaps you had too much wine Ciri. Remember who you are." His tone had turned disapproving, and Ignis moved to sit in his seat.

Ciri rolled her eyes. "Fine, but I'm going back to my room now." She actually made a show of pushing the chair in, leaving the room with just the faintest amount of slamming to the grand door.

Jaskier hated to see her chastised, especially when he felt to blame for it. "You're too hard on her. She's still a child."

Ignis didn’t seem inclined to entertain that thought. “Seventeen summers to your twenty two?” Then Ignis exhaled. "And what about you?” he said tersely. “Did you meet anyone last night, found a princess yet?"

Jaskier shook his head. "The only interesting person I met last night was Geralt."

"Then we must have another feast, and I ought to be extending invitations three kingdoms over." Ignis said in a clipped tone.

Jaskier leaned back in his seat. "So be it." Jaskier had found years ago it was best not to argue with the king. They finished their meal in relative quiet, and Jaskier was left alone in the living quarters after.

~~~~  
Jaskier didn't actually see Geralt again for a week. Tonight's feast was celebrating the solstice, so Jaskier wasn't quite so tethered to the royal table tonight. Halfway through the meal, Jaskier noticed the witcher finally coming to join the feast. Ignis welcomed him to the table eagerly, making space for Geralt between himself and Jaskier. Geralt spoke with Ignis in hushed tones briefly, then quietly ate his meal without further inclination for conversation. Jaskier tried to concentrate on anything besides the ache in his bladder, hoping that if conversation picked up soon he might be distracted from his need.

His food finished, Geralt sat back in his seat, sipping from a frothy goblet. He glanced Jaskier up and down, arching an eyebrow. Jaskier felt himself blush as he wondered whether Geralt could discern he had to go. He tried not to squirm, nervous under even the slightest bit of the witcher's scrutiny. Geralt finished his goblet and then stood, thanking Ignis before excusing himself. As Geralt stepped away from the table, he inclined his head as though asking Jaskier to follow him. 

Jaskier didn't even take a moment to consider. He excused himself and followed Geralt out of the grand hall. "Where would you like to go?" Geralt asked him softly as they rounded the corner to a quiet, empty night. 

"Go?" Jaskier echoed.

"Mmhmm. Don't you need to?"

He couldn't help how hard he was blushing this time, and Jaskier looked down to hide his cheeks. "I don't usually speak of it." He said quietly. 

"I wish to tell you about the creature I've killed, but you're too distracted now. I can help."

"But why? Why...care?"

Geralt shrugged. "Because I already care about you. Plus I know our capacity for conversation is at its greatest when yours is at its least." He made a pointed glance down at Jaskier's crotch. 

"Witcher, did you come here to court me?" Jaskier accused, folding his arms over his chest and stopping in place.

"Of course not. I came to kill the wyverns on Perilous Peak."

"Then what is this? I can take care of myself."

Geralt exhaled. "I'm sorry. You looked torn between staying at the table to talk and leaving altogether by yourself, I thought this could help."

"There's not ulterior…you just actually want to tell me about the creature you killed?" 

Geralt nodded. "So where would you like to go?"

Jaskier swallowed, glancing around the courtyard, feeling his knees squeeze together. "Usually I go to the barracks, but the patrols are lessened so it wouldn't work out tonight." There was really only one other place he ever snuck off too. "There's a hedge maze by the outer wall, sometimes--" Jaskier's cheeks flushed with forbidden memories. 

"Alright. Lead the way." Geralt said. 

His mother had requested the maze when she had been carrying Ciri. She had wanted more flowers and greenery in the castle, and this quiet little corner had become her paradise in the darkness inside the castle walls. After she had died, Ignis had erected a bronze statue of her at the entrance. Jaskier always stopped a moment in front of her visage to remember her; stepping through the arch was always accompanied with a feeling of reverence. For Jaskier, most of this maze was somewhat sacred. 

"You contain yourself well. I am impressed." Geralt mused as they walked down the rows of vines and hedges.

"I'm fine if I'm moving. If I stop then it gets bad."

"What's your destination then?"

"Theres a chink in the wall with a view of the flower fields. It's the only spot in the maze that's fully secluded from view. I used to hide from my tutors there because even the guards wouldn't be able to spot me from the towers."

Geralt hummed appreciatively. "Lead on." Three more turns, then Jaskier parted a few vines of ivy, and slipped through the hedge. Geralt followed and he let out a low whistle. Unique flowers and plants were dug into the soil all along the walls, carefully tended by Jaskier himself. 

"Welcome to my private paradise. Or just my privy." Jaskier shrugged. "Are...are you staying then?"

For the first time, Geralt looked like he had been caught by surprise. Something flared up his expression for a moment, then he looked away awkwardly. "I suppose it was indecent to follow you in here."

"Well I don't really care, maybe just turn around? I swear there's a bench we can sit at back the way we came after. I'm really curious as to what it is you've killed."

Geralt's hands opened, then clenched, and he spun around on his foot to face the brick wall. Jaskier fit himself in front of the gap in the wall, glancing back at the witcher before he reached down to untie the laces of his pants. His bladder clenched, threatening to spill early. Jaskier grit his teeth, pushing his pants down a little to spring his member free. He half expected to hear his release on the ground immediately, but he was suddenly all too aware of someone else standing there, listening. So Jaskier just stood there for a long minute, one foot smashed on top of the other with his knees grinding together while his bladder pulsed, and no piss came.

"Not to be out of place, but are you alright?" Came Geralt's voice softly.

"No." Jaskier tried pressing his knuckles into his bladder, but it made the need spike harder without achieving any relief, and Jaskier whimpered quietly. 

Soft footfalls on the grass had Jaskier trying to straighten up, but before he could, Geralt pressed against him from behind and his arms locked around Jaskier's chest. So sudden was the contact, Jaskier froze, at once fully aware of just how large and strong the witcher truly was. In the moment where his brain got stuck on the first true physical intimacy Jaskier had had with any person beyond his family, his body caught up to his needs, and a thick stream of pee spilled out between Jaskier's feet. He sucked in a breath, and Geralt squeezed him tighter. They didn't move while Jaskier finished urinating on the grass, and as his stream slowed, Jaskier worried he might melt from embarrassment were it not for Geralt's arms holding him up. 

"Do you feel better?" Geralt asked gently as the dripping stopped completely. 

"I'm fucking mortified." Jaskier whispered. 

Geralt hummed, "sorry." Jaskier shivered at the way his own ribcage rumbled from Geralt's voice. "You're right, there is a good view from here. And did you plant the other flowers in here?"

Jaskier closed his eyes, leaning his head back on the witcher's shoulder. "Yes." A cool breeze rustled through the hedges, and Jaskier pulled his pants back up, leaving the laces undone in favor of going still again in Geralt's arms. For a few minutes they stood there in silence. "Are you sure you're not here to court me?" Jaskier whispered. He felt the way Geralt unconsciously squeezed him closer.

"I'm here to kill a wyvern." Geralt said again. "And you wouldn't want a witcher husband." His tone had a dash of humor to it, and Jaskier shrugged. 

"My father asked me if I met anyone interesting to marry, I told him the only intriguing person I met was you."

Geralt's breath tickled over Jaskier's neck as Geralt adjusted his stance. "Jaskier..." he said it slowly, almost like reverent praise.

Jaskier felt his body react against his control to the way Geralt's low voice tickled through him. It was like being given rich honey, and Jaskier was weak with Geralt breathing so close to his ear. Jaskier bit down the whine in his throat, hoping it wasn't obvious he had gotten so hard, a little unsure where this inexplicable neediness was coming from. But he liked the way Geralt's beard scraped against his neck, his lips brushing Jaskier's jaw. For a while longer they stood together with their bodies relaxing into the other as their breathing fell into perfect sync. The gravity of this moment's intimacy was almost too much to bear, but neither truly wanted to break the spell. "What do we do now?" Jaskier asked quietly. 

"I don't know. Let's perhaps find that bench and speak on it?" There was just enough uncertainty in Geralt's voice that Jaskier knew they were equally blindsided by this attraction to the other. He was loath to leave the warm embrace of Geralt's arms, but finally Geralt loosened his grip and they broke apart. Jaskier tied up the laces of his pants as Geralt stepped back out of the hidden corner. A moment later Jaskier followed him, then led them back through the maze, doubling back past the entrance to journey inward to his mother's favorite spot in the garden. 

Jaskier sat down heavily on the stone bench facing the koi pond. Geralt sat beside him, looking at him expectantly. "Father said I could choose anyone suitable for marriage that I liked. He implied status and class didn't matter so much, but I know better. I know the kinds of people he would dismiss me from. I do not doubt you are one of them. He praises you with his words, but I know how he sees magic. To him it is vile and twisted. Once the wyvern is killed he will no longer have need of you, and the hospitality will end."

Geralt nodded. "I'm not blind to it. This is my everyday experience. I can tell in their eyes when they fear not just me, but the magic within me. Usually their children inherit the same beliefs. When we first spoke it surprised me how differently you see things from your peers."

"I was always shit with a sword. I've spent more time with books than I ever will in battle. I wanted to know as much about the world as I could, but whenever I tried to utilize what I learned it was shut down simply because it came from a book." He shrugged. "Otherwise I'm actually pretty decent at the lute, but what use is that?"

Geralt smiled. "A favorable verse in an unwelcoming region has gotten me food and bedding before. Better still it's a way to record and retell history." His expression downturned, and he met Jaskier's eyes with sympathy. "But I suppose you cannot be both a king and a bard." 

Jaskier shook his head, glancing up at the castle, sighing heavily. "I am trapped here Geralt. I've been given one decision to make purely on my accord..." he ran a hand down his face, slouching a bit. "And I cannot even understand what I even feel towards you, just that...that it will not end with my wishes being granted. More likely I will be put out of sight...attention shifted to my sister. My father believes I am spineless and willing to conform to his status quo. I want to prove him wrong more than anything, but I have no idea how."

Geralt hummed softly, and one of his big hands came to rest on Jaskier's knee, squeezing reassuringly. "I'd like to help. Give me some time to observe and talk to people. I'm good at finding clues." 

Jaskier managed a smile, "no, that's alright," he said, and he patted Geralt's hand. Geralt caught their hands together, and a warm smile settled into his face. "How did this happen? How did this become real?" Jaskier asked in a whisper.

Geralt looked away as his smile widened further. "I dont know. You've not seen me in half a fortnight--but every moment between I just kept thinking about you. Little things, the twitch of your eyebrow when something angers you, how your eyes lit up when you saw me again across the grand hall. But I want to know more, know it all, what makes you smile, how to cheer you when you're upset. Do you sing as well Jaskier? Will you play for me sometime?"

Jaskier swallowed, embarrassed somewhat, yet his chest swelled at the way Geralt's attentiveness made him feel seen. "Well jeez, and I just think you're fucking hot."

Geralt laughed, putting his arm over Jaskier's shoulder, scooting him closer. "Well I can't stop thinking about how pretty you are, and how soft your damn hair looks."

"You wanna touch it?" Jaskier moved Geralt's hand from his shoulder to his head, and gently Geralt's fingers buried into the brunette hair. "So, what beast have you been itching to tell me about?"

Geralt didn't move his hand from Jaskier's hair as he launched into a retelling of his last week. "Well have you ever heard of a Leshen?"

Jaskier sat up straighter. "No."

"Think demonic tree. I was supposed to be dealing with a noonwraith in the Dark Forest--turns out a Leshen prowled the woods as well, but I've never seen one so ancient. Took me three days to wear it down enough to kill it. Then I could deal with the noonwraith, but it was dark then so I found a cave to sleep in--"

"What did you find? Vampires?"

Geralt looked surprised. "Good guess."

"There's been rumors of vampire sightings. Nobody knew from where but pretty much everyone avoids the Dark Forest. Was there anything else there?"

Geralt hummed, tugging a little on Jaskier's hair as he shifted his hand a bit. "After I dealt with the vampires I took a much needed nap, went after the noonwraith, then I scoured the entire forest. At the moment the Dark Forest is creature free--devoid of wolves, bears, nekkers, a shit ton of insectoids whose nests had to be destroyed, and there was even a rabid werewolf."

"All that in our one forest? Yeesh."

Geralt nodded. "Do you know the reputation of the path up Perilous Peak?"

Jaskier exhaled sharply. "It’s shit. It's extremely dangerous, and since the wyverns took roost up there, nothing goes up there so the roads have fallen into further disarray. The wyverns are braver now too. Actually about a month ago they dropped a cow onto a barn, and carried off a horse from the same farmyard. Scared half the homestead."

Geralt sighed. "I suspect there's more than four of them. Maybe closer to six unless the original mates have managed to reproduce thrice."

"They've been up there for eight or nine years, it's possible."

"There are still a few other contracts I intend to complete first. One of them is going to take me outside the kingdom, I'll be gone at least a fortnight."

Jaskier frowned. "When?"

"Maybe in another week? Depends on how Ignis wants things. He seems to want me around during an upcoming feast."

"There's dignitaries and nobles coming in to gamble over their land borders. Father wants you around to be impressive, but he's probably going to take advantage of your intimidation factor to suppress fights. The whole week is going to have everyone walking on eggshells."

"Good to know." Geralt had a half frown on his face. "Not to be out of place, but I'm curious. The statue at the entrance--is she your mother?"

Jaskier nodded. "She died of a fever when Ciri was three. Father was never the same after. When she was alive, I spent most of my time here, with her." He dug the toe of his shoe into the dirt. "I used to sit right here playing with mud while she braided Ciri's hair."

"Losing her must have been difficult--you were young too." Geralt stroked Jaskier's hair gently, and he leaned into the touch, painfully reminded of how his mother used to comb the tangles out of his messy hair with her fingers.

"I still miss her, every day. At least here I can see her and remember the good days. That's never been taken from me. Here I was free to grieve and move on." But the emotions were still fresh, and Jaskier swallowed a few times in a row hoping to dislodge the lump from his throat.

"We needn't speak of it further..." Geralt offered. 

Jaskier nodded, appreciating the break in conversation. Geralt ruffled his hair gently before withdrawing his hand entirely. Jaskier tried not to mourn the loss. "I hope father is not displeased I abandoned the feast."

"Will he be?"

Jaskier shrugged. "Depends on how drunk he managed to get. Sometimes he's sharp and discerning, other times he's ignorant of what I may have done. My attendance has been better lately so perhaps he won't care."

"I'm sorry if I've put you in an awkward situation."

Jaskier scoffed. "This is my everyday Geralt. It's alright."

Geralt looked set to argue it but he pursed his lips and leaned on his forearms. "Perhaps we can change that soon."

"Maybe." The night was colder than it had been, and without Geralt's arm around him, Jaskier couldn't quite handle the cold anymore. A shiver rushed through him unconsciously and Geralt glanced back at him in concern. 

"Perhaps we ought to get you inside." Geralt said. 

Jaskier couldn't help the pout that pulled his lips downward. "I don't want to leave you."

Geralt smiled. "You'll see me tomorrow. That is unless you catch a cold out here."

Jaskier sighed. "That would be worse, I agree. I still don't want to leave."

"Come love." Geralt said softly, standing and pulling Jaskier to his feet. Geralt didn't let go of Jaskier's hand as he took the lead back out of the maze--his grip was so strong and gentle once again. Geralt stopped at the last turn before the arch and squeezed both of Jaskier's hands in his, pulling Jaskier in front of him. "I'm going to wait a few minutes after you leave...it's better that way. I'm a bit worried to risk this, but--" Geralt stood up on his toes and pressed his lips to Jaskier's forehead gently. "Goodnight Jaskier."

Jaskier stood there a second with wide eyes. Geralt's lovely glowing eyes were twinkling back at him in the near darkness and he let go of Jaskier's hands. "Goodnight Geralt. S-sleep well."

Geralt smiled, then turned back down the maze, leaving Jaskier with no choice but to leave him behind. Jaskier stepped through the maze, then turned back to the statue of his mother. His chest tightened and he threw away pretenses and embraced the statue tightly. Then he tore himself away and walked briskly into the castle and up the spiral stairs. He opened the main bedchamber door as quietly as he could.

From the shadows Ciri stepped into view. "I saw you with the witcher." Ciri's voice was almost too loud in the hallway. 

"Keep your voice down." Jaskier hissed, ushering her into his room and shutting the door. "What do you think you saw?" He was still whispering though.

"Oh I know what I saw. He’s it for you huh? Does he really love you back?"

"I--" Jaskier dropped down onto his bed. "Before you left the feast I wasn't...I didn't feel like I do now. It just...happened, to both of us. Is it real?"

Ciri arched her eyebrow, shrugging. "He hovers over you like he thinks the wind will blow you over. It's cute. I can't wait to keep watching you two be blind idiots in love in front of even blinder idiots--" she gestured at the drab grey walls around them. "Father won't let you marry a witcher, but you've already considered that, haven't you?"

Jaskier groaned. "I don't wanna think about it. I miss his hand petting my hair while he talks to me. Fuck Ciri, what am I supposed to do?"

Ciri sighed, sitting down next to her brother. "Consider that you may have to run away in order to be free with Geralt. Can you leave all this behind? Can you bear to leave mother behind?"

Jaskier sucked in a breath sharply. "I hadn't thought of that." He groaned, and dropped his head into his hands, shoulders aching suddenly. 

"Hey, for now just keep up the act like you're looking, maybe find a lady to distract father in the short term. We'll figure something out. Time is on our side right now, we have a better chance if we keep our heads down and work towards a foolproof plan. And if Geralt breaks your heart, I will fucking kill him."

"Ciri--"

"Nobody hurts my brother."

"Don't go threaten him. Please?"

Ciri sighed. "Okay, okay. I'll be nice." She rubbed his back softly. "You shouldn't go to sleep all miserable like this. You were pretty close to him for a good while--think about how he smells, remember how he feels. Get a good night's sleep Jaskier." She got up, letting herself out of the room quietly. Jaskier sat there a long minute. She was right, he ought to put the worries and brooding aside for the night. 

So he climbed into his bed, pressed a hand into his sleep trousers, and let himself indulge in a rare bit of fantasy. Now there was a face and a body and a voice he could remember and long for. He wished Geralt was actually beside him, touching him and making him feel small lying in the witcher's arms. Jaskier had to press his face into the pillows to muffle his groan as he came. 

He was panting afterwards, but still sensitive, so he tucked an arm over his chest like Geralt's arm had held him earlier, and rolled onto his belly, trying not to grind against the bed yet. He shifted his arm so he could toy with one nipple, and Jaskier had to bite the pillows--it almost felt Geralt had mounted him. He wanted to be taken so badly, and he let himself chase that second release. It hit him hard, his toes curling in the sheets and his hips rocking harder into the mattress. 

For another minute he didn't bother to stop rutting into the mattress in miniscule thrusts, easing the rush of pleasure into an all encompassing glow. He moved his arm first, tucking it under the pillow and shifting into a comfortable position to sleep. Jaskier's whole body was still gently thrumming with pleasure, his loins at least convinced he had been satiated.

Unbeknownst to Jaskier, in a room in the lower floor of the castle, Geralt too had caved to the comfort of his hand. He hadn’t meant to, but the castle was quiet and Geralt’s senses were too alert, and so he could tell when his new lover’s energy and lust sang out to him through the dim gray stone separating them. Geralt’s resolve lasted only a few moments before he sighed and put his hand inside his trousers and let himself seek a release he too often denied himself. He came to the lingering memorized olfactory scent of Jaskier’s evening piss soaking into the grass--the acrid mixing perfectly with the earthy. 

Though Geralt realized as he came down off that high that he could have come from anything about that treasonous nighttime rendezvous, and for all Geralt’s sappy declarations of love afterwards, damn him but he found Jaskier just absolutely hot and breathtaking. Geralt stopped himself from coming again, and lay staring at the ceiling, measuring his breathing until his heart had stopped racing and his cock had lost interest finally. 

Afterwards, Geralt sat up on the bed, deep in thought. He needed to get Jaskier out of this place, no matter the cost. Geralt could feel how sharply this place shunned magic. Music was equally absent, and that almost spoke louder. Geralt had his own theories on that.


	2. Chapter 2

Geralt had woken up just at the crack of dawn, and as he woke up properly, he sat on the edge of the bed, intending to read through some of the town notices he had pulled down earlier in the week. The door was burst open by a hooded figure who pushed it shut behind them hard. Geralt raised his eyebrows, sitting straighter. They hadn't been introduced yet, but Geralt recognized Ciri as she threw back the hood, intensity burning in her eyes. 

"Witcher--" she hissed, closing the space between them to press a dagger to Geralt's cheek. "Your intentions towards my brother? And don't bother to lie to me."

Geralt swallowed. "I didn't come here to court him, nor to tarnish his reputation. I fell in love with him."

"Not good enough."

"I know he plays the lute, and I believe the death of your mother caused Ignis to detest music."

Ciri pulled the dagger back, a look of surprise on her face. "Nobody has ever come to that conclusion before. Interesting. I'm Cirilla." She extended her left hand for Geralt to shake. 

"Geralt of Rivia."

"I know who you are. I had to consult a book to be certain. You're not like other witchers. School of the Wolf?" She sounded so sure of herself Geralt knew it wasn’t a question.

Geralt lifted his medallion from his shirt. "What would you like to know?"

Ciri shook her head. "No. What I meant is: you have a heart. I can especially see it in the way you care for my brother. Do you intend to wed him? Are you prepared for the consequences?"

"Of course I am."

"Do I have to warn you not to try anything inappropriate?"

"I respect Jaskier too much for that. Unless he expressly wants something of his own volition that isn't intercourse, I have no intention of imposing myself on him. I would wait beyond the wedding night even, were he not ready."

Ciri nodded. "Are you aware then that the most likely outcome of this courtship will have my brother disinherited and banished?"

"Yes. If I can find another outcome then I will, but if it comes down to it, I'll ride out of here with him and put this place behind us for good."

Ciri pondered a moment. "Alright Geralt. You have my blessing. You may court Jaskier." She clasped her hands together. "Onto the next thing. If you're going to help my brother escape, then you must help me leave too."

"Taking one child from your father will be difficult enough. Though I understand you've likely had similar experiences to Jaskier here."

Ciri nodded. "That, but there's something else. But I need your word from you before I tell you what it is."

"You want me to promise to get you out of here?" She tipped her chin up. Geralt read the surety in her eyes, and he inclined his head. "You have my word."

Ciri sighed in relief, then she paced up and down the small room, gathering her thoughts. "I have a plan actually. Sort of. You're a new part of the plan, but I've had something in the making for a long time." She exhaled sharply. "You cannot tell my brother yet, I must expose my greatest secret to him myself."

"What is it Ciri?"

She turned around, stabbing the dagger into the wooden dresser a few times, rocking it back and forth. "There's a hidden room in the lower level of the castle--its a forgotten armory; I found it when I was nine or ten. I spend at least an hour a day there studying and training. Initially I wanted to be a knight and compete in tournaments, but I found books on creatures and my aspirations changed. I want to become a witcher. I know it's physically impossible and I stand no chance surviving the Grasses Trials--but I don't need mutagens to be good enough. I can do everything but that and still be a witcher."

"Perhaps." Geralt conceded.

"Then will you train me? Can you believe in me?"

Geralt found himself rather impressed with both siblings--both were constrained by the toxicity of royal life yet had managed to blossom into free thinking individuals with a clear passion they wished to pursue. "Here's what I can promise you. Provided the three of us do leave here, I will begin your training on the road. I'll take you to where I was trained, and if they reject you as a student, I will continue to tutor you elsewhere."

"How likely is it I'll be turned away?" She asked, her voice a bit nervous. 

"Fifty-fifty honestly. But I'll vouch for you and that should be enough."

Ciri's shoulders relaxed finally. "I'm relieved Geralt. Thank you." A particularly loud thud beyond the door had Ciri pulling her hood back on. "We'll speak again soon Geralt." She said, cracking the door open to peek outside, casting back a single glance before disappearing out the door. 

Geralt exhaled, surprised by the whole conversation. He wondered how good with a sword Ciri already was, and he felt certain her plan actually involved ousting her intentions to be a witcher. Geralt wondered which of his children's acts of defiance would be more difficult for Ignis to accept. Something told him that Ciri already knew she would be the greater disappointment to her father. 

~~~~  
The new day was warm, birds were singing, and Ignis was distracted with an Emissary from another kingdom, so Jaskier had spent most of the morning sitting at the fountain in the middle of the maze. He had taken his shoes off and had his feet in the cool bubbling water, and he figured he could probably fall asleep in the grass. He heard footsteps approaching, and Jaskier expected Ciri would have joined him. Instead Geralt sat down beside Jaskier, stroking his hair as he passed by with a warm smile. Jaskier couldn't help but echo the smile, and he sat up to lean against Geralt's shoulder. 

"I missed you." Jaskier whispered. 

Geralt squeezed his hand. "So did I. Did you sleep well?"

Jaskier blushed, staring at the bubbling water. "Yes, but I'm ashamed to say this; I thought of you last night...for...for pleasure."

Geralt sucked in a sudden breath, but Jaskier wasn't brave enough to look at him. "You're not the only one." Geralt replied, and Jaskier shifted to meet his eyes. 

"Me? I'm interesting enough to make a great witcher cum?"

"Darling, shhh." There was the faintest dash of color on Geralt's cheeks, and he was practically beaming a smile at Jaskier. "Of course I want you. I never wanted to let you go." He leaned away then. "I walked around a bit--scouted the view into the maze. You're right. You have the only hidden corner in the whole castle. I could hold you again if we went back there." 

Jaskier shivered. He had been craving exactly that since they had been apart. "I want to." He wanted to close the space between them again. "I worry I will want more than is acceptable."

Geralt nodded. "I feel much the same. Not to worry, I've been told to keep my hands to myself."

Jaskier groaned. "I told Ciri not to threaten you."

Geralt grinned. "She has fire and determination. I respect that."

"So what now Geralt?"

"Should we move?"

Jaskier nodded and reached for his shoes, putting them on while Geralt stood up. The witcher offered his strong and gentle hand to help Jaskier up, but he let go just as Jaskier got his balance. Jaskier wondered if it hurt Geralt the same when they had to part. He wondered how many others Geralt had loved like this; was he this tender with everyone?

The walk through the maze was quiet again, and when they reached the hidden corner, Geralt parted the ivy and let Jaskier enter the little paradise first. As Geralt stepped through, Jaskier couldn't resist pressing himself into Geralt's arms, burying his face against Geralt's chest and breathing him in. Geralt squeezed Jaskier closer with one arm, his other hand drawn back up to tangle in Jaskier's hair. Jaskier almost worried Geralt would grow tired of the embrace, but this moment was long lasting, and the worry faded as their breathing matched up again. Geralt's fingers were combing gently through Jaskier's hair and they swayed a bit in place. 

Finally Jaskier looked up to see adoration glittering in Geralt's catlike eyes. His gaze flickered to Geralt's lips and Jaskier could feel the way his throat went dry at even the possibility that Geralt might kiss him. Geralt smiled and squeezed Jaskier's hand, leading him over to sit in the grass against the brick outer wall, carefully avoiding any of the delicate plants. Jaskier sat down beside Geralt, leaning into the arm that came around his body naturally. Jaskier clasped his arms around Geralt's waist and lay his head on Geralt's chest. Hands found his hair again and Jaskier sighed. "I want more." He whispered. 

"Speak freely Jaskier. Tell me what you wish for."

Jaskier was almost grateful his face was hidden as his cheeks heated. "I wish you to kiss me." He whispered. "I want to sleep in your arms, I want to wake up arous--" ah, Jaskier had been too bold.

Geralt's hand moved to cover Jaskier's mouth before he could finish, and Geralt chuckled. "You will. As for the kiss, we can make that happen. But we should discuss what lines we will not cross."

Jaskier sat up all the way, turning and putting his legs over Geralt's lap. "What if the best this is going to be is an affair in the hedges? Must...must I stay pure if this will not end in us exchanging vows?"

"That choice is yours alone to make. If you wish us to be intimate, I will make every moment together gentle and satisfying. But I like to think we have a better chance for marriage than anyone else expects. Possibly even were we to elope; we can still be wedded elsewhere, if this kingdom will not approve or officiate it."

"Ciri said I might have to consider leaving altogether. Would…would you still stay with me? Would you wait?"

Geralt smiled. "Of course. In truth I want to make your first time as magical as possible. A wedding night would be that, and were it not to be here, I have a grand bed in a tower at the castle I trained at. I'd love to deflower you in my own private paradise."

Jaskier's cheeks wouldn't stop burning, but he nodded. "That does sound nice. I hate having to wait for something I want so badly."

"It would be far more worth it. Think love, what are these next few months of patient courtship compared to the entirety of your adulthood bound to a witcher who will attend to your every need until the day you die."

Jaskier frowned. "Will you outlive me?"

"Perhaps. But that's not something to concern yourself with. I love you now; I will always love you."

Jaskier's mouth opened in surprise. "Geralt--"

"Hmmm?"

Jaskier floundered for a minute, not even sure he could truthfully say he loved Geralt back. It had been one entire day, you couldn't fall in love with someone so fast, could you? His eyes darted to Geralt's lips, and Jaskier couldn't resist any longer. With no finesse he moved in to plant their mouths together, nearly smashing his teeth on Geralt's chin. Geralt bobbed his head back and cupped Jaskier's face with his hand, holding him still as the witcher gently rectified the urgency, and kissed the prince's lips. There was one long press of their lips before Jaskier pulled away to breathe. "Sorry--"

"Shh, you lack practice is all. Sit on my lap, let's try again." Geralt's hands helped Jaskier move to straddle him, and he let Jaskier initiate the kiss this time. Nervously Jaskier gave Geralt a quick peck, then stayed for a longer chaste kiss. He withdrew when the bubbling feeling growing in his belly began to properly explode inside him; not to mention the way arousal was chewing its way through Jaskier's groin and belly. "Are you alright?" Geralt asked.

Jaskier nodded, not quite trusting his voice. He went back for another kiss, and this time Geralt's lips parted slightly, invitation for something far less chaste. Jaskier shivered and pressed deeper into the kiss, parting his own lips to see what would happen. A flick of another tongue teased his lips, and Jaskier couldn't hold in a breathless giggle. He leaned back all the way, trying to catch his breath, and studying the way mirth lit up Geralt's eyes. "Geralt I--I can't..." he wanted more but he was so overwhelmed by it all.

"I know love. I know. We have the rest of forever Jaskier."

Jaskier wanted to believe it. He wanted to believe there was a way out of this shithole. He wanted to ride off into the great big world with this one specific witcher. Geralt had shifted once again, lying entirely on the grass, opening his arm for Jaskier to curl into his side. With his head on Geralt's chest, Jaskier was lulled by the witcher's steady heartbeat. "Is this what it'll be like? Falling asleep and waking up with you?"

Geralt smiled. "Yes, only I hope we are far more naked."

Jaskier gasped in faux outrage, earning an eye crinkle from Geralt. "Okay. Are...are we taking a nap then?"

"Maybe for a little while. Just an hour perhaps."

Jaskier hummed, shifting a little so more of his back was facing the sunlight. Geralt began petting his hair again, and lulled by the feeling, and the beating of Geralt's heart, Jaskier slipped right into contented dreams.

Geralt didn't sleep however. He remained on high alert, attuned to the sounds of the castle, listening for any change in the hustle and bustle that might indicate the prince needed to be found. With a light touch, Geralt stroked Jaskier's back, pleased at how easily his lover had fallen asleep in his arms. It spoke to how much he trusted Geralt already, and it said more than exchanging promises of love. 

He reflected on his last relationship. Geralt had been stung somewhat when Yennefer had ended things with him for what she claimed was ‘the last time’, but they’d split like that before and gone back to one another, and briefly Geralt wondered if she’d really meant it this time. But that didn’t matter now, now that he had found Jaskier. Now Geralt had gotten a taste of a genuine love, adoration so deeply wound in him Geralt wished he could truly cuddle with Jaskier and sleep the day away in their pocket of paradise. But should things go sour, they would have another pocket of paradise, filled only with one or two ex-lovers--Geralt frowned. He ought to tell Jaskier, but as things were now, Geralt didn’t wish to plant doubt in Jaskier’s head, didn’t want him to believe Geralt to be unfaithful, or worse--completely committed to another. No, not until they were on the road then, with Eiderune far behind them.

Geralt didn't want to let Jaskier sleep for too long, but he was loath to disturb how peaceful his prince was, curled up on his chest. Jaskier shifted, his legs twisting a little before he fell still again. It was followed by another wriggle, and Geralt squeezed him closer, knowing Jaskier would awaken soon of his own accord. He slept another fifteen minutes, subtly squirming against Geralt, before finally Jaskier sat up fully with a gasp. He looked around himself wildly, trying to place where he was, but when he saw Geralt, the panic faded from his eyes. 

"Morning love." Geralt teased; it was well into the afternoon now. Jaskier blushed, pulling his knees up to his chest and squeezing his arms around his legs. He didn't seem to want to bring up his need, and as Jaskier began to rock in place, Geralt cleared his throat. "I could give you some privacy for a minute." He said softly. 

"I suppose it's obvious huh?"

Geralt shrugged. "You've needed to go for awhile, I just didn't wish to wake you over it."

"Would you stand with me again? Like yesterday?"

Geralt nodded. "It would be an honor."

"Good." Jaskier flattened his legs to the ground, breathing carefully before pulling himself up to his feet. He pranced in place a bit as he tried to completely contain the urgency. Geralt stood and wrapped his arms around Jaskier like they had done the night before, side stepping into the right position. Jaskier pulled on the laces of his pants, hissing as the strings knotted unnecessarily. "Geralt--please." He whispered. 

Geralt's hands moved from their grip around Jaskier's chest, and he tried to untie the knot as well. The knot was stubborn however, and Jaskier's patience was wearing thin, so Geralt hooked his fingers into the waistband of his trousers and shimmied the pants down the little curve of Jaskier's hips. The moment his member popped free of its confinements piss thundered from him onto the ground below. Jaskier groaned and sank against Geralt in blissful relief. Geralt moved his arms back up to clasp Jaskier against him, closing his eyes and allowing himself to breathe through his nose as pee puddled in the grass and soaked into the dirt at their feet. 

Jaskier leaned his head back on Geralt's shoulder. "Do you...do you like it?" He asked softly, curious about the way Geralt was so obviously scenting him.

"My sense of smell is greatly enhanced, I've learned to appreciate my own catalogue of scents."

"And piss is one of them?"

"Not usually, no. But you hydrate well, the scent is purer than say a drunkard's. And it's you. I like everything about you."

"Jeez Geralt, stop making me blush."

Geralt chuckled, squeezing Jaskier closer. "Afraid I can't do that. You finished?"

Jaskier nodded, wriggling out of Geralt's grip to force his pants back around his waist. He tried to untie the knot yet again, then exhaled in exasperation. "This damn knot." He grumbled. 

Geralt spun Jaskier around, meeting his eyes to be sure Jaskier wanted his help, before dropping to a knee. It took him a minute, but he managed to get the knot undone, and Geralt grinned up at Jaskier with a pleased expression. He stood, giving Jaskier space to retie his pants properly, then opened his arms for a much needed embrace. Jaskier sighed into his shoulder, clasping his hands together. "I'm going to hate leaving here again." Geralt mused. 

"What if we just left tonight?" Jaskier whispered. 

"Believe me, I'd like to. If only it was that easy."

"Must it really take so long? Ciri suggested I find someone to flaunt for father, but I can't even bear to think of that. Why can't I just have you?"

"We must handle this delicately. It will be worth it. If we left now I would be charged with kidnapping. If instead we wait a few months, make it known how we feel, and deliver an ultimatum, we stand a better chance we won't have a bounty following after us. And in the interim, if you must play the role you're being forced to, I won't be jealous seeing you with another. I know how you really feel."

"And if I did manage to love another? Should I try to conform to what this kingdom expects of me?"

"That's up to you. Ultimately you get to decide who you'll be with. It wont change how I feel about you, and if I leave alone, not a day will pass where I won't wish we could have been together instead. I'll love you forever Jaskier."

Jaskier sighed, and Geralt began to sway them back and forth. "You really mean it? You really feel this way?"

Geralt kissed the top of Jaskier's head. "I've loved before, but never like this. I want to protect you from the evils of this world, but I want to show you the beauty of it too. I want to show you what lies beyond these walls, I want to fall asleep to your breathing, and wake you with kisses. I want it all Jaskier, with you."

Jaskier whined, squeezing closer. "I want all that too. Promise? Promise we'll get out? I can't see my life any other way..."

"I'll do anything to take you far from here." Geralt said, rubbing Jaskier's back. 

A rustling in the vines had Jaskier jerking out of Geralt's arms. Ciri stepped into the clearing and huffed. "Don't stop on my account. But father is beginning to worry so I thought I'd come find you."

"What does he want?"

She rolled her eyes. "Who knows." She groused. Her eyes flicked to Geralt. "I trust you've taken my words to heart."

Geralt nodded. "Of course. And should you still feel as you do, I'll take it into consideration going forward."

Jaskier frowned as he glanced between them, wondering exactly what they'd spoken about before. "Take what into consideration?"

"I wanna leave too. Fuck this place." She glanced at Geralt again with a challenge in her eyes. "I was deadly serious witcher."

"I know. I'll do everything I can." He replied, more in his voice than an empty promise. 

Ciri sighed, a relieved look settling on her face. "Good." She arched her eyebrow at the space between Geralt and Jaskier, and she grinned at her brother. "It's just me, don't stop on my account." Jaskier stayed rooted to the spot, unsure what was acceptable, but Geralt put his arm around Jaskier's shoulders and placed a lingering kiss on his temple. "Oh I do love this." She smiled. "I'll go distract father with some ridiculously unbelievable womanly ailment, don't dally too long." Her eyes twinkled and she twirled away, slipping out through the ivy and leaving them alone again. 

Geralt didn't hesitate to catch Jaskier's lips for a kiss, tangling his hand in that soft brown hair he loved so much. Jaskier withdrew just a breath, needing to solidify this moment, "I love you." He whispered. "Fuck Geralt..."

Geralt smashed their lips together again, urging Jaskier back a step. Jaskier felt his back press against the brick as Geralt pressed solidly against his front. Jaskier snuck in a breath quickly, melting back into the kiss, given over to the way they felt together. Soon they would have to leave this space, but for now, their whole world was each other, and it was perfect.

~~~~  
If Jaskier had known how long it would be before he met Geralt again in the maze, he might have savored it a bit more. The witcher left the very next day, intending to return in four days. He didn't get a chance to see Jaskier however, he only left a note under a rock in the maze. It was hidden so well Jaskier didn't find it until the second day. Jaskier sat against the hedge, legs drawn to his chest as he read the brief letter.

_My love, I regret we could not meet again, but I must be careful as well. I leave tonight, but I intend to return the day before the next feast, my presence is made mandatory then. Until then be well my love, I miss you with every breath._

Jaskier read it thrice, then he folded it back up and tucked it underneath the rock. He would have to come back and burn it later. Jaskier moved to his little view of the flower fields in the meadows beyond the castle walls, staring longingly at the path, as though he could summon Geralt back to him. 

Already there had been an influx of castle guests. Jaskier hated trying to field his way through the extra population within the already small walls. He could feel Geralt's absence, and Ciri shot him a sympathetic look across the dinner table upstairs that evening. For a few days it was the same, the castle grew busier, and Jaskier felt emptier. He had always felt alone and empty in this castle, with only Ciri for shared company and common loneliness, but it was worse now; worse to know that true companionship and conversation was so within reach yet so very far away at the same time. He only hoped Geralt felt the same, wherever he might be.


	3. Chapter 3

Geralt couldn’t remember the last time a single day had gone so horribly awry. A courier had actually been sent to retrieve him a day earlier, thus ruining the previous three days of preparation he had in attempting to bait a monster into a specific rune trap. Now Geralt would need to take an extra set of days redoing everything when he had intended to be taking care of a far more dangerous contract once Ignis was done demanding his presence.

The courier had also refused to leave his company, insistent on accompanying Geralt to the castle, probably to ensure Geralt wouldn't ignore the request and dally that extra day. So Geralt had been subject to the man's uninteresting prattle the entire walk back, which fortunately proved to be uneventful, aside from a stray drowner getting too curious. The sun was halfway down the sky when the castle walls came into view, at which point Geralt realized there were festivities already underway. 

His courier companion was swapped for one of the guards once he crossed into the castle walls, and he was briskly escorted into a somewhat reorganized great hall, packed full of guests and nobles. Ciri and Jaskier were at their usual table, curtained by personal guards, and Geralt was led over to the main setup in the center of the room. Either one massive table had been brought in, or thirty smaller ones had been pushed together. Ignis sat on the north end of the grand table, and he had an empty seat beside him. Geralt was gestured into that one empty seat. Then Geralt was subjected to about a hundred different dignitaries' voices and opinions. Liquor had already been running freely and half the men were already drunk. 

Many of the men queried him on monster problems, insistent they could handle it themselves but wanting a witcher's opinion. They didnt really seem to like that his opinion was "hire a fucking witcher" either. So then he was ignored, save for Ignis' attempts to rope him back into the conversation. 

But to top it all off he had been denied the freedom to even speak to Jaskier today. From where Geralt sat, he could look across the room into the eyes of his beloved, who looked beyond cross at the distance between them, and as the hours dragged ever onward, Jaskier began to grow distressed from desperation. The room was so thick Geralt couldn’t even smell Jaskier, and he tried not to linger his attention on his lover for too long. The distress began to look like genuine pain, even earning concerned looks from Ciri. Geralt knew from his proximity to Ignis that the king would grow furious if he noticed Jaskier leave, and he tried to subtly offer the king more to drink, hoping to round off the glossy look in his eyes just enough to give Jaskier that needed leniency. It must have worked, because at some point Geralt noticed Jaskier was gone, and he didn’t return to the grand hall the rest of the night. 

Geralt didn’t believe he would ever be freed from his post beside Ignis, but finally the king turned to him, made a comment about a boar hunt, and then queried whether or not the witcher knew of any nearby. Geralt couldn’t be sure, and he asked whether he should go see if there was a sounder in the kingdom, and Ignis lit up, nearly demanding Geralt do just that, and yes, immediately. 

So Geralt left the grand hall with an uncomfortable hum of alcohol under his skin, saddled up Roach, and followed his nose. He had sensed pig on returning to the castle half a day earlier, and he was glad to be proven correct as he happened to find nearly twenty sows herded together in a woodland area. Geralt rode back to the castle and returned to the grand hall to report his findings, and Ignis delightedly stood and announced there was to be a hunt tomorrow morning, set to leave at eleven and headed up by the witcher himself. Geralt tried not to grit his teeth, then requested to take his leave. Ignis seemed to have no further need of him and waved him away easily. Another had already taken his seat anyway, so Geralt left the grand hall yet again, breathing in the fresh air and rather hating this entire day. 

He wondered then how Jaskier had fared, but with so many extra people milling about, Geralt didn’t want to risk meeting him in private chambers. At least not through normal avenues. Geralt walked the length of the inner castle wall, trying to pinpoint precisely which window he ought to be aiming for. Suddenly a quiet voice behind him offered aid. "Third window from the corner, there's handholds, and you'll be hidden if you move quickly." Geralt looked at Ciri in surprise. He hadn't paid any attention to what the princess had been drinking, but she seemed entirely sober standing beside him, garbed in her hooded cape and shrouded in half darkness.

"What are you encouraging?"

"Just go." Ciri said, fading into the shadows. Geralt looked up at the window he was now aiming for, and then carefully scaled the wall, relieved when the window opened with a gentle click, allowing Geralt to slip inside discreetly. He left it cracked open, knowing he would need to listen to the sounds of the castle, especially should Ignis come upstairs as the night was already deeply underway.

Geralt crept into the room quietly, a bit worried he still may have climbed upstairs through the wrong window. Jaskier was so still in his bed Geralt almost didn't see him at all. Geralt came around the other side of the bed, and Jaskier's eyes flicked up to him as Geralt sat down beside him. "I'm sorry we didn't even get a chance to speak today. Are you alright?"

Jaskier sighed. "Made a mess of myself, but it was in here so..." he rolled onto his belly, burying his face in his pillow. Gently Geralt began to rub his back. "Will you stay?" He asked in a small voice.

"I'll stay as long as I can." Geralt took off his boots and set aside his satchel, and he moved on the bed to sit cross legged beside Jaskier. "I'm sorry."

Jaskier shook his head. "Don't be. Father is cross with me is all."

"Did something happen while I was away?"

Jaskier sighed. "He's moved the wedding up. He's set on me marrying one of the noble's daughters who's here. He said I wasn't taking the opportunity to decide a princess seriously, and with the company we had before us I couldn't dispute him or say I have in fact found someone--someone who's not here, a man, and a fucking witcher."

"It seems we must move our own plans up as well then."

"Including Ciri? I can't bear to leave her behind; father will blame her for me leaving--"

"I've already made a promise to Ciri that goes beyond getting her out. I'm still not quite certain how to play the cards yet." He moved his hand to stroke Jaskier's hair. "Don't worry on it tonight darling."

"How can I not Geralt? What am I to do tomorrow?" He said sharply.

"Hush love, I'll talk you through it." Geralt soothed. "Want me to lie with you?"

Jaskier nodded, burrowing into the pillow again as Geralt moved around to the other side of the bed, settling down behind Jaskier, scooping him into his arms. "I'm scared Geralt."

"I know you are." Geralt's arms wrapped tightly around Jaskier's chest. They were a slightly better fit on their sides than they had been standing. "I won't let anything happen to you." Geralt kissed the back of his head. "Tomorrow you need to find your sister and tell her it's time you knew. Can you do that?"

"Sure, but what does that even mean? What ought I know?"

"You'll find out tomorrow I reckon."

Jaskier sighed heavily, seeming to shrink smaller in Geralt's arms. "I just don’t think I can do all this. My…my thoughts are always about you, all the time now, but everything here is perilous. I cannot daydream of our future when our present is in jeopardy, and I cannot sleep because I have no idea what might happen. It's awful and I don't want to deal with any of it."

"Do you wish that I don't pursue you then?"

Jaskier rolled back, shaking his head hard. "Don't say that Geralt." He rolled over completely, tucking himself under Geralt's chin. "I'm just not confident I can stand up to father, especially not in front of another proper suitor."

"You will not be alone, and it will not be done with such an audience. And it won't happen tomorrow either. There's a boar hunt tomorrow and the next day so I doubt this will look anything like the rest of the fortnight."

Jaskier shimmied back a bit. "There's a hunt? Do I get to come? Will I get to be with you tomorrow, even a little?"

Geralt hummed. "I believe so." Jaskier exhaled, his eyes fluttering closed for a second. "What are you imagining?"

"Just the two of us sharing a picnic in the flower fields, and then lying in the grass with you afterwards." His breath caught briefly, and he curled back against Geralt's chest. "I don't want to lose this--it seems so unattainable."

"You won't, trust me. I would rather die than spend a day apart from you. You are mine Jaskier." Geralt kissed his forehead and stroked his hair, humming contentedly.

Jaskier shivered against him, pressing into Geralt's touch. "Geralt?"

"Yes darling?"

"Can I ask something…I’m not sure--"

Geralt held his hand softly. "Go ahead. Ask anything."

"You know more about how the world works, and what's acceptable, right? What is natural of the average man?"

"I think so. What would you like to know?"

"Is there something wrong with my habits in relieving myself?"

"How do you mean?"

"I just...I like holding it until I'm to burst with it--people don't usually wait so long, but I can't seem to help it."

"Is this your way of saying you need to pass water currently?"

Jaskier gulped, nodding against Geralt's chest. "I can still wait, but the feast began so early and I did nothing but drink for hours--" he shivered. "It used to be the only way to entertain myself at the feasts--it wasn't wines until I was older, but I'd drink until my stomach ached and squirm until someone noticed and took me away from the table, but it felt good and decency was expected of me. I've been ashamed of my perversion for so long, but you changed that somehow…"

Geralt chuckled. "Have I now? Tell me love, do you know anything about witcher potions? Do you happen to know what they can do to my bladder?"

Jaskier shivered. "No. Tell me."

"Easier to show you." Geralt said, and he rolled away entirely, getting off the bed. He retrieved his satchel and sat down beside Jaskier, rifling through the bag for a minute. He pulled out four vials of brightly colored potions. "This is a strength potion-I tend to use a lot of this one in battle, this one helps me see in the dark but makes me wicked desperate, this is my favorite decoction for long hard fights in spite of the fact my need hits near instantly when I drink it. This last one I've never actually used before, but one of my witcher friends reported taking his longest piss after drinking just that." Geralt shrugged. "A witcher's life is not all hard work mind you. I drink them for fun sometimes." 

He scooped the vials back up and tucked them into his satchel again. Jaskier watched Geralt lean down to put his satchel back on the floor. "Take the one that helps you see in the dark." Jaskier whispered. "Then you can see me, and we can feel it together..."

Geralt hesitated. "Have you something here that can contain our release then? Don't start us on something we cannot finish properly."

Jaskier blushed. "Under the bed--" he didn't finish.

Geralt chuckled. "Good enough for me." He uncorked the vial and downed it in one swallow, then settled back on the bed and scooped Jaskier into his embrace again.

"Earlier I couldn't make it far enough. I just went and stood in the bathing basin. Those trousers are ruined now."

Geralt groaned softly, pressing his mouth into Jaskier's hair to muffle the sound."One way or another love, you'll be the death of me."

"Don't deny me Geralt--it's safe in here, and I'm with you...I need you to stay."

Geralt hummed. "Shh, I can probably stay until a bit before sunrise. You'll fall asleep in my arms tonight."

Jaskier sighed into Geralt's chest. "You're not going to touch me yet are you?"

"The best things take patience, but you ought to touch yourself if it helps you."

Jaskier nodded, trying not to squirm. "It's getting bad Geralt." He breathed. "Distract me."

Geralt hummed, beginning to rub Jaskier's back. "In the garden last week I told you about finding the cave full of vampires? What I didn't tell you then is I was so damn exhausted after chasing the Leshen around the forest I didn't bother to check my surroundings. I got jumped by the first vampires while I was halfway through my only piss that day. I couldn't stop either so I just stood there against the cave wall, swatting them away with swords until I could concentrate on anything else."

"Geralt I said distract me, not make everything hotter!"

Geralt pressed on unhindered. "Once I got trapped in a cave troll's den for a week after part of the wall caved in, I went the first three hours trying to escape, then the next twelve trying to ignore my bladder until I couldn't wait any more--"

"Please..." Jaskier squirmed again and his hand clenched again, losing the fight finally as it stole over his hip to slip inside his pants. He glanced up at Geralt with scarlet cheeks, before sighing into the pleasure. His hand began to speed up between them, never quite hitting Geralt with how they had spaced themselves.

Geralt tensed all over for a moment, his nostrils flaring before he shifted up in order to kiss Jaskier's cheek. "Don't rush yourself, it'll feel better if you draw it out."

"I don't know if I can."

Geralt caught Jaskier's wrist, and his grip brought Jaskier's rhythm to a total halt. "Slower Jaskier, trust me."

Jaskier took a shaky breath, head already fuzzy with warmth and desperation. "You have to talk again, I can't concentrate..."

"You seemed to be touting your ability to endure it for hours earlier."

Jaskier groaned. "Yes, but I've already drenched myself once because of it, it's harder the second time. How long can you even wait?"

"After the potion I drank? An hour? Three? Were it not for that I would not have sought release until late morning."

Jaskier couldn't help his curiosity then and he brought his other hand up to poke Geralt's belly. Geralt grunted, and Jaskier's interest got the better of him. He pulled up Geralt's doublet and pressed his fingers into the swelling below Geralt's navel. Geralt hissed, shifting to lay on his back. Jaskier pressed himself into Geralt's side. He squirmed as he adjusted into the new position, half-wriggling half-grinding on Geralt's thigh before the desperation eased enough Jaskier could be embarrassed. He rocked his hips away, putting his hand back into his pants, needing to squeeze his member tightly. 

"If that was helping, you didn't need to stop." Geralt crooned.

Jaskier barely managed a breathless scoff. "I felt about to leak...remember if I stop..."

Geralt hummed, allowing for the faintest shift of his hips. "What if I want it to get bad? Take your hand away for a minute."

Lust stomped through his chest, and Jaskier complied on curiosity alone, fisting his hand and putting it behind his back. He counted Geralt's breaths as he tried to mentally prepare for the next contraction of need. Nothing could have readied Jaskier for the full gush of pee that wet his smallclothes before his hand could intervene. He gasped, another burst wetting his skin as his need crested. Jaskier's breathing turned into proper panting, and he began a careful tugging on his dick through the fabric, desperate to regain a semblance of control. The contraction finally eased and Jaskier could finally lessen his grip. He glanced up at Geralt's glossed over eyes as he assessed the damage from his leaks with his hand. His thighs and groin were damp, his pants were likely too wet to sleep in, and now Jaskier's bladder was raring to empty. "Satisfy you?" He asked Geralt, earning an immediate smile from the witcher.

"You ought to take your hand away more often...you could use the practice." Geralt teased. 

Jaskier almost shot back something witty, but he happened to glance at Geralt's trousers; even in the darkness they were visibly and significantly tented and Jaskier had a sudden realization that he had done that to Geralt. The rush of that knowledge alone made him let go of himself again. Jaskier could swear Geralt knew what he was doing. The witcher's breathing was uneven and shallow, like breathing through his nose might drown him.

Jaskier could feel the way his body built up to the next leak, and he worried briefly that he wouldn't manage to stop it. Having a premeditated release wasn't quite as easy as he had expected, and his bladder didn't obey his mostly tensed attempt to relax his sphincter. He groaned into Geralt's shoulder at the completely conflicting feeling. 

"Stop thinking about it." Geralt urged gently. 

"I'm trying to--"

"I know what you're doing love." Geralt breathed through his nose. "Don't think about it."

Jaskier acquiesced as Geralt squeezed Jaskier's shoulder. "I've ruined these trousers already." He whispered. 

"Ought to untie them now before you make a mess in front of your chamberpot."

Jaskier gulped, reaching down to do just that. He missed the faintest hint of a smirk on Geralt's face, but the witcher's timing was spot on. Jaskier had just managed to wrest the knot loose when need cramped his midsection and warmth gushed from him again. "Shit--" Jaskier hissed, squeezing his length and clenching vainly against his dribbling bladder. 

"Did you stop the leak?" Geralt asked after an agonizing moment passed--as if he couldn't tell.

Jaskier shook his head. "No. Oooh I think I'm fucked Geralt. I can't make it stop..."

"Take a breath, squeeze yourself, control the leak for another moment. You can still make it off the bed." Geralt's voice was even and calm in the face of impending crisis, and Jaskier did just that, trusting that surety. He scooted away from Geralt towards the edge of the bed, focused entirely on containing the impending flood. Little leaks continued to burst over his fingers in audible wet trickles, pulling him further and faster past the point of no return.

Jaskier's knees dropped to the floor and he finished loosening the laces with one hand while the other dragged out the chamber pot. Jaskier squirmed in front of it, poised for release. The first long jet of urine hit the bottom of the ceramic, and the witcher exhaled heavily. Jaskier looked over the bed at Geralt. "S-say when..." Jaskier whispered, seeking permission for what was already inevitable. 

Geralt groaned quietly. "You've been patient for so long, go darling." Geralt stretched his arm across the bed so Jaskier could hold his hand. "Piss Jaskier."

The command set fire up Jaskier's spine, and it distracted him long enough his bladder lost the fight. The first moments of release were a heady bliss, like a drawn out orgasm; then Jaskier was attuned to the sound of his urine filling the pot, and his ears burned. He pressed his face against the blankets to muffle his moans of relief so the only sound in the room was the overwhelming thundering of piss hitting ceramic. Finally his stream came to a blessed conclusion and Jaskier shivered in place as he watched the last droplets spill into the nearly full pot. Then silence, save for their breathing. 

"Geralt?" He finally queried, squeezing the witcher's hand.

"Hmm?"

"You've not said anything."

Geralt hummed again. "I can't." He said softly. 

Jaskier lifted his head, squinting at Geralt in the dim room. "Can't? Why? Your potion?"

"Mmmm."

Jaskier scrambled up to his feet, hesitating as he noticed how tense Geralt was, before climbing gingerly back onto the bed.

"It's alright." Geralt said softly.

Jaskier lay beside him again, his hand coming to rest on Geralt's chest though he wanted to move it lower. "I fear I've nearly overfilled the chamber pot." Jaskier admitted.

Geralt chuckled, taking Jaskier's hand and setting it atop his bladder. "It's alright love. I had not expected to use it myself."

"Then what of you? You haven't gone yet." Jaskier couldn't help pressing his fingers curiously into his witcher's bladder.

Geralt hummed, kneading both his hand and Jaskier's into the now visibly overfilled balloon that was his bladder. "It has made me desperate indeed, but I believe I can wait through the night."

"Are we just sleeping then? I didn't get to cum..."

Geralt turned his head to kiss Jaskier's forehead. "Darling, it wasn't for that. It served its purpose already. As it is, it's terribly late; and now that you're empty your eyes are getting heavy. In the morning you will want that pleasure more. You'll be able to take yourself in hand and ride out that tension during the early hours of the morning."

"But you'll be leaving before the morning."

"And if I can wait through the night, I will be doing the same as you just did in my own room downstairs. Touch yourself tomorrow to the knowledge that I'm seeking all the same things you need too at the same time."

Jaskier shivered, squeezing Geralt's bladder somewhat. Geralt tensed, his breath shuddering with the sudden blend of pleasure and fullness. "Will you even be able to climb out the window like this?" Jaskier asked.

Geralt sucked in a breath. "I had not thought of that." He lay still for a minute, genuinely considering it. "I'll manage. By the gods I'm looking forward to that piss tomorrow." 

Jaskier had never feigned sleep for any reason in his life, but tonight he played the part of falling asleep in his fiancé's arms. Geralt was composed while they exchanged kisses and promises of love, but once he believed Jaskier to be asleep, all that changed. First Geralt moved a hand inside his trousers, and it wouldn't move the rest of the night, save for the careful way Geralt masturbated through the worst of his desperation. Occasionally Geralt would withdraw his hand to squeeze his own bladder, a private game that made his breath shudder, his need double on itself, and forced him to reunite his hand with his cock. Sometimes Jaskier shifted his hand to press hard on Geralt's bladder, hoping he was discreet, but somewhere into the second hour Jaskier got the impression Geralt knew he was fully awake and watching with hunger. 

Finally Geralt went actually still and his breathing evened out in proper sleep. How he had managed it, Jaskier was curious to know, but he took that as an invitation to obey his exhausted body and let his eyes close at long last. Jaskier moved his arm away from Geralt's bladder, hugging his chest and fell asleep listening to the steady beating of the witcher's heart. 

~~~~  
Jaskier woke as he felt Geralt shift his arm from under Jaskier. "I must go now." Geralt said softly, stopping at the way Jaskier gripped his shirt, settling back down. "I have ten minutes before the guards establish their morning patrol." 

Jaskier was particularly intrigued by how much more flustered Geralt seemed in the low morning light. His cheeks were flushed and his long hair had grown messy from sleep. The glow of Geralt's eyes was almost sizzling, lust was glossed over them. One leg was crossed over the other at the knee, and Jaskier could tell Geralt was yearning to hold himself. "How bad is it?" Jaskier asked in a whisper, inching his hand down Geralt's belly.

Geralt lay back into the pillows, breathing shakily as he closed his eyes for a moment. "Bad..." he muttered as Jaskier teased his bladder. Geralt tried not to shift his hips away.

Jaskier nuzzled into Geralt's chest. "Will you continue to wait, if I asked you to?"

A grimace crossed Geralt's face and he managed a low groan. "How long?"

"Twenty minutes? I've gotta go too and you're right…I do wish to touch myself. If you're still waiting--"

Geralt caught Jaskier by the hair, pulling him in for a kiss. "As you wish darling. Now I must go. Hopefully I shall see you soon." He kissed Jaskier again, then carefully got to his feet. Jaskier pushed his hand into his trousers as he watched Geralt take small, measured steps to the window. He met Jaskier's eyes as he lifted the latch. "Enjoy yourself, I love you."

Jaskier blushed, pulling the blanket over his head. Geralt chuckled, and when Jaskier looked up again Geralt was gone. Immediately the distance between them ached, but Jaskier pushed that twist of pain aside and focused solely on the way arousal blended with his morning need--not nearly as severe as he had let it get last night. 

He got up then and filled a goblet with water, shivering as the steady filling of the glass sent excitement through his body. He drank it to empty, refilled it, then considered something far more perverse. His bladder tightened at the implication and he abandoned pretenses. He took the goblet with him back to the bed and sipped the water to empty, debating whether or not he actually wanted to try what he was considering. His belly was full from the water but his throat was still dry as he stared into the empty glass.

His bladder tensed harshly, and Jaskier's mind quickly flicked to the witcher somewhere in his own room, likely masturbating himself while he waited to piss at Jaskier's behest. He felt guilty a moment then when he inched forward off the bed, adjusting himself in order to let a little out. He pulled his penis out of his small clothes and set the goblet to the tip. 

Jaskier took a breath, hoping he had the control for what he was attempting. An unauthorized spurt shot into the goblet, and Jaskier's chest swelled with excitement as he watched it fill a quarter of the way in one go. He let go more deliberately and pissed hard relief, but only for a moment. The goblet filled far too quickly, and Jaskier tried to stem the flow. He managed to stop it, but his hand began to shake as yet another leak burst from him. If he couldn't stop now, the goblet would overflow; Jaskier grit his teeth and moved the goblet to the bedside table, hoping the removal of temptation would help him actually stop dribbling. 

He took his dick in hand again, trying to focus on arousal again, hoping he could get hard. He wondered if Geralt had caved to release yet--of one kind or another. He lay back on the pillows, massaging his bladder in hopes of quelling the storm inside him while his hand began to gradually speed up. 

Jaskier let his eyes close as he remembered the genuine desperation Geralt had steadily endured the whole night. The few minutes they had shared this morning had given Jaskier a peek into their future--Geralt had been absolutely unguarded, every movement and catch of his breath was authentic. Jaskier imagined a morning wherein they could continue to bask in each other's eyes and desperation freely, and suddenly Jaskier was far too close. He sat up harshly, panting and shivering with a release that wasn't his own--had Geralt spent himself then? The sudden awareness that he could properly feel Geralt in any capacity was downright thrilling.

But he had stopped jerking himself off, and the next wave of desperation crashed into him unexpectedly. The second pulse of need wet his trousers in a familiar way, and Jaskier lay back down, fisting his cock once again to combat the impending wetting. He wondered briefly just how good Geralt's sense of smell was--could he tell precisely how far gone Jaskier currently was? He allowed himself another leak, reveling in the way it warmed his groin and wrapped around his balls. If he wasn't careful he was going to make a mess, but he allowed yet another trickle to escape before picking his pace up again. 

His stomach had emptied of the water from earlier and Jaskier was nervous for it to hit his bladder. Another wave of need crashed into him, slightly more intense than before, and his control had weakened further. If he was to climax, Jaskier had to do it now. So he focused entirely on the memory of Geralt breathing in the scent of his piss from over his shoulder. It was Geralt's attentiveness to every little detail about Jaskier that finally pushed him over the edge--their intimacy had been so comfortable and natural Jaskier was ever more resolved to spend the rest of his days at the witcher's side. 

Jaskier painted the inside of his trousers with his cum which was followed immediately by an unstoppable gush of piss. He doubled over himself, gasping into the blankets as he squeezed himself almost painfully. He needed to take care of this piss, and imminently. When the need twisted back into a more gentle throb, Jaskier rolled himself off the bed and dropped down to his knees beside it. 

Then he realized his second problem--he had filled his chamber pot last night, but had yet to empty it. Now it sat far too full in front of him, a promise he would need to find relief elsewhere. "Shit..." he curled against the mattress, squeezing himself as he braced for the next surge of desperation and tried to think of a plan. There was a lavatory down the hall he could reach, but managing to get there dry--or dry enough--seemed completely impossible. 

But Jaskier couldn't just stay kneeling in his room and he refused to make another mess in his bathing basin, but if he didn't move before the water filled his bladder entirely, that would be the result. Jaskier breathed carefully, heaved himself to his feet and hoped beyond anything he made it. 

He staggered from his room, hoping he wouldn't wake anyone as he left the bedchambers and went further down the hallway. The door to the lavatory was cracked open to his utter relief, and he practically launched himself inside, slamming the door behind him and wrestling his pants right down his hips. He was positively shaking--he worried he would make a mess all over the floor, and he dropped onto the wooden seat, adjusting himself into the hole. He sat there for a moment longer, his breath hitching. 

Jaskier didn't realize he was waiting for it, but desperation hit him again like a tidal wave, and release gushed from him in a torrent. He couldn't help his moan of pleasure and Jaskier bit down on his fist as the raw ecstasy threatened to overwhelm him. He could actually feel the way his bladder was expelling liquid. Jaskier pressed a hand to the little swell that was still present, enjoying the way his belly went flatter beneath his hand as it emptied further. Before he was quite finished he felt his cock perk back up--he had spent himself earlier but already needed to again--yet he refused to toss off in the lavatory. He concentrated instead on finishing his piss, and he felt numb and exhausted by the time the last little gushes left his body.

He wobbled to his feet and pulled his quite damp trousers back up his waist. Jaskier stepped out of the lavatory and nearly gasped as he walked right into Geralt. "Hi." The witcher said with a huge grin plastered on his face. Jaskier's breath nearly caught--Geralt had shaved his beard completely and he was somewhat dressed down. He was wearing comfortable pants and a simple loose white shirt that showed off far too much of his chest.

"Were you listening?" Jaskier hissed in a whisper, painfully tearing his eyes away from Geralt's chest and neck.

Geralt shrugged, tapping his nose like it was a covert compliment. "I’m joining for breakfast." His voice lowered to be almost inaudible. "But you should get changed and have that wank." He walked down the hallway towards the upper dining hall, and Jaskier wondered curiously how Geralt's morning had gone. He'd have to inquire later. 

Knowing breakfast was so soon, Jaskier hurried back to his room, and deciding that his trousers were completely ruined now, he lay himself face down on the bed and ground his hips into the mattress. Jaskier couldn't help but think of Geralt--he wondered how their lips would feel together unhindered by scruff and stubble and he bemoaned the likelihood he wouldn't get a chance to kiss Geralt today. From the gap in Geralt's shirt Jaskier had seen a scar peeking up the skin, and Jaskier was curious to just how scarred up his witcher was. Now he ached to see Geralt undressed, and he let himself fantasize accordingly.

He rutted until he was beginning to sweat, then pushed his hand underneath himself and came all over his belly in uncontrolled spurts. His bladder tingled at him again, remembering the so recent pleasure of release. Jaskier presumed he was already filling again. He would need to remember to relieve himself before they rode out to hunt boars. He lay there a long minute, gathering himself again and settling his breathing.

How was he supposed to sit at a breakfast table with Geralt when he very well knew his witcher could smell his perversions, and--this was far worse--that Geralt would continue to smell his arousal and desire throughout the entire meal. Jaskier shivered, rolling off the bed. His eyes caught on the forgotten goblet of piss on the bedside and heat rushed over his cheeks. He took it off the stand and dumped it out into the chamber pot which now absolutely needed to be emptied. He didn't know what to do with the goblet either so he put it back on the side table and set to work getting dressed. Jaskier made sure to wet a cloth and clean the spunk and piss from his groin and thighs, and he donned a pair of trousers with buttons instead, and fitted a comfortable blue jerkin over his standard off white tunic.

Confident overall with his look he slipped on shoes and left the bedroom behind. He joined Geralt and Ciri at the breakfast table a minute later. Ciri grinned at him like she knew everything, and Jaskier's ears burned as he tried not to stare at Geralt. Then the door opened for Ignis and the king settled at the table, at once launching into his expectations from Geralt during the first day of the boar hunt. Jaskier tuned his father out, staring at that scar on Geralt's chest and occasionally getting a glimpse of the heavy chain that held the witcher's medallion. Geralt glanced at him at some point, but Jaskier didn't have it in him to be embarrassed. Not anymore. Not when he knew Geralt wanted everything from him that he had to offer. 

~~~~  
The worst part was getting down that damned castle wall while damn near bursting open. Geralt didn’t even properly care about being seen, so much as not pissing down his entire leg while fumbling for handholds in the near brightness of dawn. Getting to his room was the easy part, and then came the hard part--the waiting. Geralt dragged out his chamberpot, ensuring it was tucked close enough to grab but not exposed enough to trip on. He lay down on his bed, giving himself a reassuring squeeze. The morning was already quite busy, and it lacked the quiet of the deep night, but Geralt could still focus somewhat on Jaskier, on the way he teased himself and toyed with his own desperation. 

Geralt enjoyed how genuine and deep seated Jaskier’s perversion was, how uniquely it colored his scent when he was close to Geralt. It had been most obvious through this whole night. Geralt began to touch himself properly, allowing himself this release if he was to deny himself the one he was aching for. Geralt shut his eyes--his potion had hardly worn off yet, everything was still too bright for him--but behind his eyelids Geralt enjoyed remembering the way Jaskier had tried to sneak a hand across his belly in the night, teasing Geralt’s tender bulge. Geralt squeezed his bladder now, feeling need ricochet down his cock in the most pleasurable way as he did. He did it twice more and then needed nothing more than massage the base of his member, and he had spent himself completely. He lay there, feeling his bladder tense angrily at him, and he rubbed it gently. 

To torture himself further, Geralt tucked himself completely away and swung upright, setting his legs on the ground and gritting against the ache that the shift brought. He rinsed clean his hands and leaned over the shaving basin, taking arduous time to shave his face down. He wet his hair and tied it back, then rifled through his bag to find something a bit more loose to wear. It was near summer after all. It would hurt nobody if Geralt was dressed down for his attended breakfast. He would be wearing armor the rest of the day anyway. 

Then finally Geralt’s bladder would be denied no longer, and he finally knelt beside his bed, bit into the blanket, and groaned throatily as nearly a full day and night of impatient waiting met their end. Geralt worried briefly he would flood over the chamber pot, but he trusted in its size and didn’t let himself hold back. It was a relief to piss, and as his concentration slowly returned, he was aware of Jaskier meeting a messy climax of his own--he was still desperte, Geralt suddenly realized. His dick surged to life then, and Geralt hastily finished and laced up his pants. 

He made his way upstairs, intending to at least appear on his way to the upstairs dining room for breakfast. Geralt heard a door slam shut harshly, and Geralt didn’t need his nose to know who was doing what inside that lavatory. He poked around the upper floor, acting lost, though he was really trying not to follow his nose lest he truly be standing in front of the lavatory door. Yet Jaskier still came crashing into him, a flushed and relieved mess. Geralt could tell Jaskier was caught off guard by his outfit as his scent sparked ever more aroused as his eyes raked over Geralt’s chest and throat. 

Something about the marked change in both their outfits made what Jaskier wore to the breakfast table seem more profound. He looked softer, like he was bound to stand on stage and sing a mournful tune. They would be riding on a boar hunt soon, would be garbed in armor and somewhat forced apart for the two days of endless riding and beast slaying that truly felt like a waste of Geralt’s time. But while Ignis prattled on about traditions and hunting, Geralt was distinctly aware of Jaskier watching him, fixated on him all through the meal. So obvious, yet Geralt was flattered by the attention for once, and he was uninclined to even acknowledge Jaskier, letting him stare like he had not been noticed. 

The breakfast conversation soon shifted from boars to the entourage that would attend the hunt, and Ciri spoke up. “I’d like to ride with you. I can ride a horse well, I wish to see a hunt up close. Jaskier got to ride when he was two years my junior--”

“Cirilla we have spoken of this.”

“Don’t call me that. It’s Ciri.”

“It is improper for--”

“I don’t care about what’s proper. I want to do anything besides live cooped up in this castle!”

“That’s enough Ciri. You’re dismissed.”

Her eyes narrowed and her hand squeezed tightly on Jaskier’s shoulder as she passed him, as much for comfort, as a quick way to emote to him just how frustrated she truly was. This was Ciri’s sign that she expected Jaskier to come find her later, that she needed his confidance. “That’s unfair.” Jaskier said to Ignis, before Ciri had quite left the room.

“You could wield a sword at that age, Ciri cannot.”

Geralt bit his tongue, knowing now wasn’t the right time to inform Ignis otherwise. How long had Ciri been biting her own tongue then? And Jaskier for that matter. For how little he knew of Ciri’s deepest secret, he knew every bit of how deeply she struggled. Geralt was glad Ciri had demanded they both leave with him--separating these siblings was out of the question. They were each other’s pillars, each other’s best friends. Geralt didn’t pay attention to anything else Ignis talked about. Jaskier managed to speak when it seemed relevant for him to, and then finally Ignis excused himself, and Geralt stood to follow him out, glancing back at Jaskier to offer just a brief nod of encouragement at him.


	4. Chapter 4

There was another hour or two yet before the hunting party was set to ride out--some thirty men and their dogs. Jaskier had overheard as Ignis had asked once again later that morning that Geralt knew of a sounder of swine nearby, needing to be certain it seemed, and the witcher confirmed there were at least fifteen boars. 

But in the interim, Jaskier remembered something Geralt had told him the night before. He went back down the hall to Ciri's room and he knocked on the door. "Hey, I know you're upset, but can we talk?" He waited a beat, hating his father again with every second that passed. 

Ciri tugged the door ajar. "What?" She asked glumly. 

"Can I come in?"

"Yeah sure, whatever." She retreated inside her room and flopped on the bed. Her window drapes were pulled closed and the canopy around the four-poster bed was closed on one side. 

"Are you alright?" He asked. "I’m...I'm worried about you." 

"I know you are. I'm fine. It's not like anything matters anymore. I'm in hell."

Jaskier sat on the bed, crossing his legs so he could face her. "We'll get out of here. I know we will. Don’t...don't worry about it."

She frowned at him for a moment, then she sighed and dropped back on the pillows. "You know what we speak of is treason, right?" She asked quietly.

Jaskier swallowed, looking away. What he had shared with Geralt last night was treason too technically. "I know. Do you really have a plan for getting away?”

Ciri looked over at him, shifting to sit up finally. “You mean Geralt didn’t truly betray my trust and kept a secret from you?”

Jaskier frowned. “Secret? What secret?”

“Mine, silly. I asked him not to tell you, but I needed him to know what I truly expected from him, should he help us both escape here.”

“And what secret do you think you’ve managed to keep from me all this time? I’m your brother, I know everything about you.”

Ciri laughed, a semblance of light finally reaching her eyes as she shook her head. “How drunk do you think I get at all those feasts dear brother?”

Jaskier shrugged. “I usually cut you off once I can see it in your eyes.”

“And when was the last time you genuinely saw me with glazed eyes? The night you met your new husband? That was the last time I actually drank to get drunk you know.”

Jaskier frowned. “What? But surely when we shared a table at the feast last night--you had…” he trailed off, uncertain now. “What’s your point?”

“I don’t drink Jaskier. I pretend and then usually I pour my drinks out little by little over the side of my chair.”

Jaskier’s eyebrows shot up and then furrowed again. “I don’t understand. Why would you do that when you could simply refuse to drink at all?”

Ciri grinned. “I’m trying to stay sober on purpose, but I’m trying to keep up pretenses. I want it to appear as though I’m drinking so that my sleep deprived state the next day has a good explanation.”

“So then what are you doing after you go to sleep then? Reading?”

“You know that one time when we were little and you were showing me around the castle trying to spook me with those dumb legends of haunted castles? Do you remember that armory we found?”

Jaskier nodded. “Yeah, what about it? That room was so dusty and we could barely squeeze through that little hole in the wall.”

“I made the hole bigger and hid the entrance with a tapestry. I go there just about every day and I train myself with a sword. I’ve been doing it literally since the day we found it.” 

“Wait really? You were so small then how could you have lifted a sword?”

“Well I prefer daggers. Easy to hide, easy to plunge into a throat…you know how it goes.” She gestured with her hands, mimicking a plunging motion.

Jaskier shook his head and grinned. “I really don’t. But damn. You’ve been training yourself for a decade?” He was surprised to hear it, but he could suddenly see her arms were toned, not properly delicate like was expected of her. 

Ciri nodded. “Yeah. Just about. I wanted to compete in tournaments initially, but I got bored of that idea early on.”

“So then what do you really want to do with your apparent sword fighting prowess?”

Ciri sighed, shifting away a bit. “You’ll think it’s daft, or assume it was only a recent idea. But I’ve wanted to become a witcher for a really long time Jaskier. It’s something I’ve thought about for a long time. I feigned ignorance when you mentioned you’d seen a witcher the day Geralt showed up here, but the truth is, I knew exactly who he was when he walked in. I knew vaguely which witchers would even be likely to show up. I’ve known for a long time. Here look at this.” She pulled a book from under her pillow and set it in Jaskier’s hands. The book opened naturally to a page in the near middle that had a sketched drawing of a fortress. “That’s Kaer Morhen, that’s where his group of witchers live. I know you’ve seen his medallion. You were practically drooling over it all through breakfast.”

Jaskier looked up, feeling his face heat. “Was it that obvious? Do you think Geralt noticed?”

“Oh I’m certain he did, what you ought to be worried about is whether father noticed. But I think he was too self absorbed today to care so you might have gotten lucky. Or rather unlucky since your witcher decided to show up like _that_ to breakfast.”

Jaskier cleared his throat, taking the book from her entirely, flipping through it. “Enough of that. What is it you're trying to tell me here?”

“I’m just...showing you the life you’re just now stepping into. I’ve been trying to get into it my whole life. I want to leave, I want a medallion like that. I want everything that I can take from that life.”

Jaskier was hardly listening though, he was staring at one of the pages. “This...this would kill you? Really?” He looked up at her. “That seems unfair.”

Ciri leaned over, glancing at the page he was on. “Well I’d made up my mind already I’d have to become a witcher without that. But Geralt seems to agree I can make do without, so I intend to.”

Jaskier pursed his lips, nodding. “Sure, and you’re certain you want to join School of the Wolf? You’d fit in with the Cat group pretty well…or Viper…”

“As far as I know, no witcher schools are training anyone anymore. The fact that Geralt agreed to train me regardless is incredible to me. Besides that, I had already felt like the Wolves were the best option. They seem to have a warmth to them that is lacking everywhere else. They still seem human if that makes sense. And I know they’re all just…men. That’s not exactly what I mean. I just mean these ones care--about each other, about those in need…I want that to be part of my training. I want to share my warmth. And I certainly can’t do that here.”

“Then you won’t. What’s your plan to get out of here then?”

Ciri sighed. “Alright. Geralt has said he needs another week and a half, then he will have completed his contrats.”

“But my wedding has already been moved up. We don’t have that much time!”

Ciri shook her head. “No, that’s why you’re going to become very very ill.”

“What! You’re joking. We’re staging a whole thing? Isn’t that too dramatic?”

“Says the bard,” she teased, poking him in the side. “Trust me. Geralt will return from slaying the wyverns, return to the castle to find Ignis distraught over the near death of his son, and Geralt will show immense worry, say he might have a cure…”

“It better not be true love’s kiss Ciri.” Jaskier crossed his arms, feeling uneasy about the idea.

“No silly. No of course not. He’ll have the antidote. You’ll be cured in a moment and father will be overjoyed…” she stopped then. “No. No that won’t work will it. You’re right, too dramatic.”

“I’m not taking anything that requires an antidote. That’s too gauche. Besides, I intend to tell of my intentions to marry. Perhaps you ought to confess as well.”

“Of course I intend to expose my plans to be a witcher. That’s been the plan for quite a long time. I just…I thought I had a better plan laid out somehow--”

“I’ll speak with Geralt today, ask him how quickly he can kill the wyverns. Perhaps his aim to rid our entire lands of beasts was too generous for Ignis.”

Ciri managed half a smile. “Perhaps.” They sat in silence for a moment. “You’re alright with me being a witcher then?”

“Of course Ciri. I’d be glad for it. Is that fortress really going to be our new home then?”

Ciri nodded. “That’s the dream.”

Jaskier sat back, doubt rushing through him. “I guess…it is just a dream still, isn’t it? And we’ll have to leave mother behind.” His voice went quiet.

“If I were you I’d pack your things now--only the very essentials. Some clothes, your lute. No treasures, save what’s truly priceless.” 

Jaskier knew what she was speaking of, gifts they’d both held onto their entire lives, trinkets from their childhood. “Alright. And regardless of when, I’ll be ready.”

“We both will.”

After a moment Jaskier looked up at her. “I’m sorry you can’t ride on the hunt. It’s wretched that he won’t allow it. I will hate every minute of it save the ones I can manage to spend with Geralt. But I will hate all the rest, as I always do.”

Ciri managed half a smile. “I keep hoping one of these days he will not refuse me. But…he never does, and I have despaired for so long I no longer really care. But I keep waiting for the day I can go on proper witcher hunts, and that dream will come true, just as your dream must too.” 

Jaskier pulled Ciri into a tight hug, nodding in agreement. “They will.” They embraced for another moment, and then Ciri pushed him away, smiling faintly and pulling the book back out from under her pillow. She waved sweetly and Jaskier smiled back at her and left the room. 

He headed to the maze after, wondering if Geralt might meet him there. Fortune seemed to favor Jaskier somehow, and Geralt was already there waiting. “How many days do we have?” Geralt asked, his tone serious.

“Nine days. I’m to wed early in the morning too. You must return by nightfall in eight days, or it’ll be too late.” Jaskier said grimly.

Geralt nodded. “I can do that. I’ll be back in time Jaskier.” Geralt leaned in for a kiss, and Jaskier met him chastely, sighing into it and shutting his eyes. Then Geralt was gone, and Jaskier didn’t see him for even a minute during that entire hunting trip, nor any of the six days following afterwards. Late afternoon on the eight day, Geralt rode back through the castle gates.

~~~~  
Upon learning just how harsh a deadline they were on, Geralt left almost immediately upon returning from the hunt. Ignis tried to get him to stay for the festivities--surely Geralt wished to try the pork they would eat that night--but Geralt made some ruse about the wyverns becoming far more dangerous, and he immediately set out back to the place where he had set up a rune trap. Fortunately the markings were still there-only half a day to repair the days of work he had thought he'd lost. 

His mind was halfway focused completely on his upcoming task to battle probably six or eight wyverns, and the other half of him was split between his current task, and how badly he missed Jaskier. Being so distracted got him a slice on his arm for it, and Geralt returned the majority of his focus to his creature killing. There were two more creature contracts Geralt took the time to deal with, and then all too soon he found himself on the path up Perilous Peak; and how perilous it turned out to be. An entire day he lost to climbing, and then began a fight just as perilous. 

It took him every single ounce of potions, and he broke two of the castle's swords in the process before he resorted back to his trusty wolf silver sword. Its weight was a comfort in his hands and every time Geralt's bladder twinged angrily in the course of the battle, he let himself imagine he was indulging Jaskier instead. He pissed himself thrice during that interminable battle against the circling, mawing wyverns, and each time Geralt let his focus waver just briefly to enjoy this moment, to enjoy the fact that he would soon share moments like this with Jaskier. Oh he would be delighted to know just how often Geralt found himself in wet pants because of an endless fight. 

The night had waned back into morning again by the time Geralt was fighting the oldest wyvern. It was the mother, and she was furious to be surrounded by the corpses of her mate and children. Her ferocity was unmatched compared to every wyvern Geralt had slain before, and he took his last thunderbolt potion just as she seemed to gain the upper hand against him. With that extra strength he plunged his sword through her belly as the beast lunged itself over Geralt, trying to claw out his throat. Instead it gurgled and blood gushed out over Geralt's hands. The weight of the beast plunged them both to the ground, and it took him a minute to work himself out from underneath the dead wyvern. 

By now he was drenched completely in blood, and Geralt was in no state to fight even the weakest monster. Time was ticking harshly against him. One night slept atop this peak would be the last night he could spare away before Jaskier would be married off, and Geralt reluctantly bedded down in the early afternoon, meditating beforehand to settle his nerves, and he made time to replenish his potions once he awoke in the darkest hour of dawn. Then he returned down the dangerous road, and hoped above anything that he made it back in time. 

~~~~  
Their wont for a foolproof plan was made completely moot. It wasn’t so much any one thing. Geralt had ridden in on Roach with the heads of seven wyvern heads hung to the saddle--all of them still dripping blood and each bore a near elegant snarl on their faces. A feast was called for regardless, but Ignis had a very disapproving look to him, and he excused himself before the first round of drinks was brought out. Ciri looked worried, and Jaskier met her eyes. 

It was time. 

Geralt nodded, understanding from across the room. He would follow just behind them. Jaskier opened the door to the upstairs dining room and Ciri led the way inside. Ignis sat looking at the fireplace, slumped somewhat in his seat but he straightened when they entered. He spoke immediately as Ciri and Jaskier moved to their seats though they did not sit down. “What is it you three conspire against me with? Geralt you may enter too. I know you are part of this coup.” Geralt opened the door--no point in hiding it--and he stood just inside the room, unsure what precisely to anticipate. “So which of you three is going to tell me what you’ve been plotting in secret?”

Ciri stepped forward, but Jaskier spoke first. “I have chosen whom I will marry already.”

“You are wedded tomorrow at dawn, the time to speak up has long passed.”

“You never gave me the opportunity, you gave me two weeks to choose a suitor and then chose one for me.”

“You do not get to choose things in this life Jaskier. It is an embarrassment to our line if--”

Jaskier interrupted him, bold for once in his life. “I’m leaving this castle. I’m going to become a bard, and I’m going to marry the witcher. I’m in love with Geralt. I’d sooner die than step on tomorrow’s altar without him.”

Ignis hardly blinked though, something knowing in his expression. “Yes I had presumed as much. Then what of you Cirilla, why do _you_ wish to leave so badly hmm?”

Ciri glanced at Jaskier, confused somewhat. “I…I challenge you to a duel Ignis.”

Ignis actually laughed, shaking his head soundly. “That I don’t believe.”

“I’m going to prove I can amount to something for once in my own life, I’m going to become a witcher. And for the freedom to do so, I’m going to challenge you to a duel. If I win, you let me leave.”

“Utterly ridiculous.”

“You refuse to fight me?”

“You’re a child Cirilla--”

“It’s Ciri. I’ve always been Ciri. Don’t call me that.”

“Look Ciri, you cannot become a witcher. That life would kill you in a blink.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. I’ve been training for years, ten of them in fact, I was seven when I first wielded a blade.”

Ignis was quiet for a very long time. Then he looked once between the three of them. "This is what you want? Nothing will sway you?" So level was his voice Jaskier was almost hopeful. "Then I disinherit you. Both of you. Pack your things and leave tonight. Witcher, a word alone?"

Jaskier and Ciri exchanged a look, then left the room, going to their own rooms to wait. They had truthfully both been ready for this weeks now so they simply had to gather their things together. Everything had already been packed away long ago. They were limited to what they could carry, and Roach was already well equipped for them to leave. Jaskier paced in his room, anxious the longer Geralt was away from him, afraid perhaps his father had challenged Geralt to a duel, in lieu of rising to Ciri’s challenge. 

Geralt stood in the now empty room, his heart thudding in his chest as he waited for Ignis to do anything. Ignis was glowering at him from across the room. Then he looked away and paced slowly back towards his seat. He finally sank down into it and his voice was grave and heavy as he spoke. "I ought to have you executed. You have stolen away my children from me. And here I thought witchers were neutral in political affairs."

"I cannot remain neutral when matters of the heart are involved."

"Do not try and farce me, somehow you have spelled both my children to follow you--I will make sure it clings to your reputation."

"Your children already wished to leave--all I have done is enabled them a second option you refused to allow them access to."

"Cirilla cannot become a witcher--I tolerated you for the sake of my kingdom's safety, but she cannot even use a kitchen knife, let alone wield a sword in battle."

Geralt shook his head. "Perhaps had you shown interest in her hobbies, you would know she rooted out a traitor who had come to poison you. She took off three of his fingers in the kitchen before a huge feast. Maybe you recall the man wailing his crimes in the grand hall before all your guests--that was Ciri. She used a cleaver then."

Ignis had the most unsettled expression on his face. "She was eleven--we had a disagreement then, I let her skip the feast and stay in her room."

"Well you know now she didn't."

Ignis reached his hand back to grip the armrest of his chair, sinking into it heavily. "I know nothing about my own children, do it?"

Geralt sat in the seat beside him. "They resent this lifestyle, their inability to choose their own path. You will always be their father--"

"They will not return to me. Not since they've been disinherited. And if it's not one thing it will be another--because of you my children will die young."

Geralt sighed heavily, how thick headed was this man? "I'm going to swear an oath to you Ignis, a solemn promise that neither of your children will meet harm under my protection. They will not be kept from returning here either."

"Spare me your twisted lies. You cannot prevent them from illness; you fight dangerous monsters as a career. Letting them leave with you is assigning them a death penalty. I should have you executed." His voice was more bitter now, but there was less heat. 

Geralt felt a twist of sympathy. "There are still other outcomes to this, if you accept Jaskier and Ciri as they are--"

"You are excused witcher. Don't return here unless both my children are still with you."

Geralt frowned deeper, and he slowly got to his feet. "Do me one thing then Ignis. When you begin to hear tales spreading throughout the kingdoms of a valiant maiden witcher, see through your misconceptions to be proud of Ciri."

Ignis pointed resolutely at the door, giving Geralt no further reply. Geralt finally turned to the door and left Ignis behind. He knocked on Jaskier's door, and Ciri opened the door. "Ready?" She whispered. 

"Hoods on, both of you. Quietly now."

That night under the darkness of a night with no moon, three figures escaped out the very front entrance of the Eiderune, leaving behind what was once a home and a prison in one castle. 

_Epilogue_

For nearly two months they had been on the road. They weren't taking their journey very quickly. Ciri and Jaskier were unused to such travel; endurance had needed to build up gradually. Along the way Geralt had begun to spar with Ciri--first with wooden sticks--but quickly she worked up to proper sword fighting. When it was her turn to ride Roach she devoured every single book Geralt could give her, consuming knowledge while her brother walked hand in hand with his soon to be husband. Jaskier wore his lute proudly now, and sometimes he would play in the evening around the fire, practicing a verse or humming out a new melody. Geralt would sit across from him, half a smile permanently on his face, proud of his newfound family.

"We should be less than a week out." Geralt said when Jaskier had finally set aside his lute one evening.

"Just a week?" Ciri asked.

"We could make it five days if we covered a bit more ground, but six should be a satisfactory pace."

Jaskier sat down beside Geralt, leaning into his embrace. "And how many days until we are wed?"

Geralt smiled, kissing his temple. "Six."

"We'll wed the day we arrive?" Jaskier didn't know if he was excited or nervous for it now.

"Is that too soon? If you'd like to pick a specific date, feel free." Geralt said softly.

"No, I'm okay with it...I just..." he trailed off. 

"It's okay to have cold feet." Ciri chimed in. "You're already married in each other's eyes. A ceremony just allows everyone else to see that." Jaskier looked up at Geralt; it was true after all. Geralt stole a quick kiss. "I'm gonna take a walk. You lovebirds have fun." Ciri plucked up Geralt's silver sword, twirling it through the air once as she walked past them. 

Jaskier didn't wait for her to leave entirely before he climbed into Geralt's lap. "It's not cold feet." He said after a minute of organizing his thoughts. "I'm kinda...kinda nervous for--well, the wedding night."

"Tell me what's worrying you?" Geralt urged, rubbing his back in little circles.

Jaskier shrugged. "I don’t...I don't really know what's expected of me...or what to do, or how it's supposed to feel...what if it hurts too much?" His voice dropped to a whisper. "You're big Geralt." 

Geralt chuckled. "Dont stoke my ego love. I won't let it hurt. We won't take it too fast, and I'll be listening to both you and your body the whole time. Would you like to hear the actual logistics of it?" Jaskier nodded. "Before I ever enter you, I must stretch you open--I'll use oils on my fingers as well as my length. When I'm inside you, I have somewhere I'm aiming for however. There's a little pleasure spot inside you, and I intend to hit it with every thrust."

Jaskier shivered, feeling a strange surge of lust twist through him. "How do you know that's there?"

Geralt looked embarrassed then, and he ducked a little out of view. "I’ve pleasured myself just from my fingers inside me. You could do the same once you've grown comfortable with the feeling."

"Geralt you've..." he trailed off.

"One of the nights in the castle I wondered what it would be like having you take me. Wouldn't that have been a sight--catching a witcher half naked with half a hand up his own ass." Geralt looked unashamed however.

"I've never even thought about touching myself there before." Now that he had, Jaskier wanted to, just to satiate his own curiosity.

"Did you think you would have no pleasure under me?" Geralt sounded a touch concerned.

"I thought you'd just touch me..." Jaskier looked away, embarrassed.

"Your cock is a vessel of release, the pleasure is in the copulation love, I promise you."

Jaskier shivered, curling on Geralt's chest. "I want it now." He said softly.

"I know. Less than a week my love."

"Can..." Jaskier paused. "Geralt, I'm twisted up inside. I need release."

"Right now?"

Jaskier nodded, rolling his hips against Geralt's belly to prove it. "I haven't gotten a chance to in weeks, and now I'm like this--" he whined, gripping Geralt's shirt as he rocked against him unconsciously.

"Alright, scoot back a bit, untie the laces." Geralt said. 

Jaskier sat up in surprise, shifting to do as Geralt said without hesitation. He leaned back on his hands while Geralt's moved to his waistband. Geralt tugged the front of the pants down--Jaskier was firm enough his erection poked into the night air on its own. Geralt took Jaskier's cock in one hand, moving his other arm to wrap around Jaskier's waist, drawing him back against his body. 

"Hide your face in my shoulder, bite if you must, but try and keep quiet." Geralt instructed softly. If the almost unexpected grip on his member wasn't enough of a shock, Geralt set up a steady rhythm that sent wild sparks of pleasure firing through Jaskier's body. He was biting Geralt's shoulder without realizing it, whimpering into the folds of Geralt's shirt, entirely at the mercy of the raw pleasure wrought by a confident hand on his dick for the first time in his life. Then Geralt spoke again “on our wedding night I’m going to take any number of potions you wish of me. I want to show you just how desperate a witcher can become, how…wet I become. In truth I’ve played desperation games a long time myself Jaskier, and I’m excited to share that with you properly.” Jaskier felt the ripples of ecstasy building hard and fast, and his hips stuttered up into Geralt's hand. Jaskier gasped as Geralt swiped his thumb over the sensitive tip, and that was it. Jaskier was gone to the release, his vision going white for a second as he stopped breathing momentarily. "Shh, you're alright, you've almost finished." Geralt's voice was gentle as he brought Jaskier back into the moment. "You came so much." Geralt mused, withdrawing his hand to show a proper little puddle of semen in his palm.

Jaskier's ears were still thudding, sound a bit muffled as he settled back against Geralt's body to catch his breath. The witcher was hard inside his own pants, but he often was when they sat like this. Geralt hadn't gotten rid of the handful of semen, but Jaskier didn’t feel embarrassed about his release until Geralt put his hand up to his mouth and too loudly slurped up the cum. "Geralt!" He exclaimed, scandalized.

Geralt smirked, licking his hand completely clean before responding. "What? Must I wait for it too when you gave it right to me, in my hand nonetheless?"

"Why would you even want to taste it?"

Geralt ruffled Jaskier's hair with his clean hand. "It’s fucking fantastic."

"Is this another thing that's just you because you're weird, or is this something people often want?"

"Some do. But if you dislike it I would never make you swallow mine." Geralt assured him. 

Jaskier blushed. "You're never gonna stop teaching me new things, huh?"

"I hope not. Was that alright? Your heart was beating really hard for a bit there."

Jaskier nodded, nuzzling against Geralt's neck, pressing a kiss against the skin. "It was really good. Better than I've done for myself."

Geralt hummed, rubbing Jaskier's back, rocking side to side until Jaskier's breathing had slowed even further. "Are you tired love?"

Jaskier nodded slowly. "Ciri's not back." He mumbled.

"I won't sleep until she's back, I'll only leave you if she's gone another hour." Geralt stood up with Jaskier still in his arms, strode around the fire, and he gently laid Jaskier into the bedroll they shared. Jaskier rolled onto his side, facing the fire as Geralt joined him in bed. Geralt wrapped his arms around Jaskier again, kissing his head. Jaskier rolled back to get a few kisses to his lips, and he sighed tiredly. "Goodnight Jaskier."

"Night Geralt. Love you."

Geralt kissed him again. "I love you too." Jaskier fell asleep in a matter of minutes, his breathing evening out completely. When he was certain he wouldn't wake Jaskier, Geralt withdrew the arm from underneath Jaskier's head, leaning upright on his elbow as he waited for Ciri to return. 

It was almost to the point Geralt was worried by the time Ciri came back into the camp. She stuck the point of the sword into the grass right by the fire. There was blood on the blade and Geralt raised an eyebrow. "Drowners. I know it's not much but--"

"I'm impressed. How many?"

"Ten, but I walked up the river a good ways so never more than two at a time."

"Good. You ought to get some rest."

Ciri nodded, sitting down beside the fire. She pulled the sword out of the dirt, cleaning the blade off before setting the sword down in front of her bedroll. "Are you taking night watch then?" She asked. 

"I shouldn't have to--you took care of the wanderers." He shrugged, settling back down properly. "Goodnight Ciri."

"See you bright and early." She replied, pulling the sword a little closer to her before she settled entirely to sleep. 

Geralt tugged Jaskier close to his body, Jaskier sighing and going still in his arms again. The night was quiet save for an owl roosting in a nearby tree, hooting occasionally as Geralt let himself drift off into sleep. Soon they would be home.


End file.
